#todays ficlet comes early guys

[weird-an]

hello! idk if you take prompts/suggestions for ficlets but I really love your writing and this idea just popped into my head so I figured I’d ask!

Billy or Steve (idc which) having a really goofy laugh. Maybe they’ve been told in the past that it’s an ugly laugh or people usually cringe and end the conversation once The Laugh jumps out. Billy/Steve have resolved to not laughing (or maybe changing their laugh) to avoid the embarrassment of rejection again. But one day when they’re hanging out together (as friends or as an already established couple whichever you prefer), Billy/Steve gets a little too comfortable and The Laugh slips out. Billy/Steve is mortified, but it turns out that the other absolutely adores The Laugh.

It can be as angsty or as fluffy as you deem fit, I trust your literary judgement.

tw: bullying, Billy hurting someone in response to that, mentions of (verbal) abuse.

Billy's laugh is too high pitched and when he laughs really really hard, it always chokes in a sort of hiccup and squiek.

"You sound like a fucking girl," his dad tells him. "Cut it off."

So Billy tries to keep his mouth shut. To not laugh at home which is easy because Neil gives him nothing to laugh about anyway.

The boy that shoves him into the lockers at school, calls him fat because of his chubby cheeks and the same slurs his dad uses at home, catches him laughing at a stupid comic someone drew at his desk one day.

"You laugh like a pig," he says. "Piggy Billy."

It becomes a nickname he never asked for. He hears it in the hallways, in the lockers, everywhere.

His mom tells him that he doesn't need to listen to them. But then she fucking leaves and there's no one else to listen to except them and their ugly words.

Billy stops laughing at all. But he starts pushing back.

The anger inside him is a friend, getting bigger with every insult thrown, makes him strong. It's like a tunnel that only leads one way. He nearly breaks the kid's arm when he calls him Piggy Billy one more time.

They stop calling him that. Billy doesn't start to laugh again. He feels bad for losing his temper, but it works in his favor.

He doesn't think about laughing. They move to Hawkins and now its even hard to smile.

Then Steve Harrington decides to hang out with him, because he sees something in him that Billy doesn't really get. Because he tries to make Billy grin even when he's so angry and just wants to lash out and break something until it's as broken as he is. Because it works when Steve tries to put a smile on his lips and Billy wants to return the favor.

One day, they're stretched out on Steve's bed, skin still flushed and nerves tingling from the aftermath of their orgasms.

Steve's breathes ghosts over his neck and his fingers slide along Billy's ribs.

It tickles. Billy laughs. Too high pitched, choking on the grunt on the end. His mouth snaps shut and his cheeks burn when he realizes it.

He stares at the ceiling, panting and waits for Steve to joke about it.

"Oh my God," Steve looks absolutely delighted. "This is so cute."

He tickles Billy again. Billy's laugh slips out again, with that much force like it has just piled up in all these years, waiting to leave his throat.

"Cute," Steve says again.

"Fuck off. I'm not cute." Billy gasps, trying to catch his breath. His cheeks burn.

"Of course not," Steve says entirely insincere. He sits up. "Why didn't I ever hear that laugh before?"

A careless question that sounds too much like an accusation.

"I don't laugh."

Steve falls silent. A hint of confusion on his face changes into something else. Pity, sadness, Billy isn't sure what. But it's gone in a second.

"Well, you should. I like it."

"Just suck my dick, will ya?" Billy rolls his eyes, when Steve tickles him again.

The laugh shakes Billy from head to toes.

"I like it," Steve repeats.

He fucking means it, Billy realizes. There is that weird feeling in his chest again he always gets when Steve likes something about him. Despite of Billy being Billy.

The next time he laughs is when they watch a movie, Billy is sprawled out on the couch, head on Steve's lap.

The movie is stupid. It's so stupid, it's funny. The Laugh bubbles up again and he wants to slap his hand in front of his mouth, but Steve catches it before he's there, intertwining their fingers.

It's easier to laugh after that.

Billy laughs and Steve kisses him. It feels fucking good.

[strangersteddierthings]

Daily Ficlet 8

I’m challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today’s prompt is gas station.

-

"What a turn of events!" Robin says gleefully once they make eye contact over the counter. "I get to come harass you at your job now."

"Please do," Eddie whines from his side of the counter, draping himself across it. He's careful to hover his face just above the counter because now that he's working with the general public, he's realizing how disgusting other people can be and he is not going to shove his face into where all these gross people touch.

"That fun?" Robin laughs.

"Yeah, fun, that's the word."

"What, not loving the graveyard shift at Gas and Snack?"

"Could be worse, I suppose," Eddie agrees, straighten to look at Robin. "I could be the morning shift. That dude has to show up when I leave. Can you imagine getting up that early?"

Robin rolls her eyes at him and fishes out her wallet. "Can I get $3 on pump one?"

"How's it feel to be a free bird, Robin?" Eddie asks, taking the money and setting the pump.

"Weird. It's been a week of the car and I already miss calling Steve for ride."

"You could just. Do that. He's not going to be upset if you ask."

"I know," Robin says, "I was just hoping to make it longer than a week before I broke down. Feels needy, you know?"

"You and Steve? Needy?" Eddie gasps, "Since when? No, but really, he misses you just as much. Heck, even if you drive, Steve'll be happy to just run errands with you."

"Oh! Why hadn't I thought of that!? See, this is why we keep you around, Munson. That beautiful brain of yours."

"No, I'm pretty sure it's because my boyfriend loves me and enjoys my company."

Robin pretends to think about it before she says, "No. I don't think that's it. It's definitely because you are the ideas guy in our trio."

"Then who are you and Steve?"

"Clearly I'm the brawn and he's the beauty," she flexes her arms, and being fair to Robin, it's nothing to laugh at. "Anyway, better go pump that. But have a good night, Eddie!"

"Night Robin!"

[thecoffeelorian]

Title: Caf, Chocolates, and Comfort

Word Count: 431.

A/N: 3 years in this fandom, and I've NEVER written a single fluff piece...?! Really?! Well, then, say no more, my friends! Here's what I hope is the first of many fluff ficlets, written for and by somebody who survived the great Easter rush and hopes you will, too. Happy reading!

Special Credit: Tech Divider made by the talented @ve-ti-ver .

No-Pressure Tags: @lulalovez @nahoney22 @ci-avmovies14 @orange-twilek-guy @marvel-starwarsfangirl @theosb0rnway and anyone else in need of a little happiness. Thank you for your time!

The holiday rush always turned hellish by twelve o'clock sharp, and this year would be no exception.

In other words, not only would there be your usual duties to take care of for the day, but some people would ask you the location of items that you couldn't remember where to find; others would move their carts into your path when you didn't want to be late to the time clock; and of course, at least one bratty kid would do their best Zillo Beast impression the moment their parents wouldn't let them have their Eostre chocolate two days early.

And so, thanks to all of these combined moments of crazy plus a few other things you didn't want to mention...by the time you finally got to leave, you were pretty much ready to collapse as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment.

In fact, after all of the stress, the forced social interaction, and the noise...you might very well have gone down and stayed down the moment you walked over the threshhold.

That is, only if a certain bespectacled Trooper hadn't been waiting for your return, a mug of steaming flavored caf in one hand and a bag of your favorite chocolates in the other. One smells faintly of cinnamon; the second, mint; and the third, old paper and tea leaves--yet, obviously, all three are the most welcome sight for you today.

"You're just in time, y/n," Tech reassures you, handing you both items of your post-work snack before nudging you gently toward the couch.

"The worst is over, and now it's time to rest."

"You're sure about that, buddy...?"

"Positive. Come and sit down now, you look dead on your feet."

"I almost feel dead," you manage to chuckle right before finding your deserved seat. With all of the people who decided to show up at the marketplace on this day plus much of the others they brought inside with them, it was a miracle that you could even find your way to the door, let alone pass through it.

Thank the Force, though, that you wouldn't have to deal with the exact same madness at all for the next two days.

No, as of this particular moment...it would be just you, Tech, and your wished-for chocolates in this comfy room, while the rest of the world would neither pay you any of its attention nor demand any more of yours.

And, unlike that one kid back at the store...you would be able to celebrate the weekend as early or as late as you wished.

[sasukimimochi]

hey guys! had a nap so I'm back to update u guys properly. I'm going to try to summarize the post I made a bit better, as well as posting the picture I shared with the previews (as little as it is)

*TWPT extra image. Translation: ”Come back soon! - Lan Sizhui”

As always, check out my masterpost in order to get more content! ❤

So onto what I mentioned earlier today, I'm delaying Ch 27 of Ghost of Mine by at least one more week due to life continuing to throw shit my way. However I'm sharing some previews on ao3 (they will be removed when I upload 27, just like the aftercare ficlet). A longer explanation will be under the cut!

This is in addition to stuff that is still happening from my previous life update.

as you guys know the past tenants aren't really paying their dues, so I've been waiting on that & I got a large charge from an insurance company I wasn't expecting on top of that. Then I got a second charge from the same company, in the same month, for the usual amount. So we lost as much as 900+ dollars this month. As you can probably expect, that is a lot of money to lose at once unless you are reasonably wealthy and comfortable.

We only just today got our check for next month- early, which is great because we were worried that we would have to stretch things until the 3rd with no new groceries other than what my mom might be able to throw our way. Before we got the check as well my cats decided they absolutely did not like the food I got them- My cats aren't picky when they're hungry, so this was a bizarre and unexpected thing and I couldn't spare the money to buy a new bag of food (my mom helped us by buying a new bag of their previous food and essentially doing a trade with us, so she has the food they don't like) Just, in general a lot of stress is happening at the same time.

Onto GOM: I was writing recently (I can't remember the exact day, it was probably up to two weeks ago) as I did rewrite the entire beginning of Ch 27 and planned to cut out a lot more, which is why it's taking me much longer than expected to complete this chapter- it's my first show of proper investigation and intrigue that is a bit dangerous for the present time and not just, you know, only revealing information- I really want this chapter to be good and not rushed through like my initial first pass. It was a short-lived lapse in my stress when I wrote the first fourth of the rewrite, and I've hit a spot in the chapter that's difficult when my mind is so distracted by the stress.

SO, as to make up for this lack of update (again) I'm gonna give you guys three exclusive previews, one for the beginning of Ghost of Mine Ch 27 (just the first bit, not everything I've written so far bc its still prone to change and I want to give u guys the best version), the beginning of Rose Hips and Flushed Fingertips - The Story of Mo Xuanyu (GOM extra), and the beginning of The Wild Plum Tree (JC & LXC's story - GOM extra) so I hope you enjoy these exclusive previews, as they are all directly connected with the story and are canon to the GOM universe.

TLDR; struggling still, this is another delay. will check back in in about a week- I'm going to show you guys some exclusive previews for GOM related content that isn't yet released to make up for it right now! GOM CH 27, RH&FF (Ch.1/Part1), and TWPT (Ch.1).

PLEASE, KEEP IN MIND: the previews are still very prone to change. RH&FF/TWPT especially, since I am always struggling on how I write JC to make him feel canon to me (and he doesn't here, in my opinion, just bc I haven't described him well enough there) so just keep that in mind when you read!

So I hope you guys enjoy the previews and come back next Sunday!

[ofallthingsnasty]

Your writings are so sweet I'm getting cavities from them! (Hehe) A small but burning question: would you say yandere Croc is close to how he'd be in canon, or do you think he's actually a bit nicer?

I'm glad you like them!! I love sharing my silly little thoughts, it's just so much fun. That is a really, really good question. And before I can answer, you have to know that I personally think that I write him a little too soft - at least compared to Alabasta-era Crocodile. Early Crocodile is cocky, sarcastic, gets heated, has a certain sense of pride and humor. All in all, he was a pretty shrewd character back then - now he's a little more serious, more bitter and Oda lost a bit of his humor when it comes to him (as he has with a lot of OP, but that's not a topic for today, haha) So, take my opinion with a grain of salt - I just want to be his spoiled little wife and it shows in my writing lmao. I always have to think about how he told Robin that he never trusted anyone in the first place, right before he tried to kill her - and that move alone is enough for me to think that canon Crocodile is not a marriage guy, all the allure of someone waiting for you at home be damned. That's why I believe that yandere Crocodile is actually way nicer than the canon version, as paradoxical it may sound. Regular old Crocodile would probably not entertain you for any longer than necessary, if at all - if we go hard hard canon. But with that dark love context? That changes everything for me - and turns him into some grumbly, weirdly soft yet unrelenting man. You still serve a purpose and he still doesn't really love you (that comes with time, like with Daz) - but you're there to play pretend with him, play house and offer some relief from all the troubles he surrounds himself with, so he, too, has to be at least tolerable. He wants to spouse experience™, so he feeds you, dresses you, provides for you - all the while he keeps a certain distance because you're a liability. He is one of THE basement wife/husband/spouse candidates to me, with all that Pluton business and the plotting and planning in secret. That coupled with the fact that he likes his luxuries makes me think that he'd definitely keep someone hidden away, in a weird captor/captive limbo that is too soft to be torture yet fucked up enough to make you do as he says. Really interesting, I think - and I really need to write some proper ficlets exploring that power dynamic more, it's the main pull for me. And yet it's kind of hard to explain, haha

Thank you for the question!! 🐎💕

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

A series of university events

Here is the ficlet for the winning option on this poll, Jingyi going through some of the funniest moments/situations I experienced as a university student.

All of these did actually happen, believe it or not, either to me personally, or I was there to witness them.

(The last one was a bit adapted to fit the characters and the theme, but I did argue with my group mates over color accents and other such aspects when we did our project, so there is a grain of truth in there!)

I really hope this is actually funny. Enjoy!

It was 7.15 am when Lan Jingyi stepped into his university building and he didn't know whether he found that ironic, hilarious or eerie.

He had promised himself he would not be cutting it so close to Professor Lan's 8 am class anymore (last time he arrived 53 seconds before the lesson began, as per Ouyang Zizhen's cronometer), but 7.15 was way too early.

It just had to be that day that the Public Transportation Gods decided to smile upon him and have him arrive 45 minutes before Teacher Lan's class. The man was probably still home having his coffee, minding his business, while Jingyi was at school, regretting the extra 30 minutes of sleep he lost.

Jingyi walked up to his class, and was surprised to find one of the cleaning ladies struggling to clean up yesterday's mess. She was equally as surprised to see him, and even checked her watch, panicked.

"Young man, you really scared me, I thought I ran out of time!"

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to do that." A sheepish smile as he chose one of the middle seats. "The commute was surprisingly short today."

He took out his phone to scroll on social media for a bit as began to sip at his coffee, but his eyes inevitably caught onto the cleaning lady's pained expression every time she bent down to pick up discarded papers or small pieces of trash.

Jingyi immediately abandoned his phone, walking up to her to help.

"You really don't need to do that, sweetheart, you're here to learn, not to clean!"

But Jingyi only offered her a reassuring smile, placing all the trash he'd collected into the bin. "You guys work so hard for us, so we have a clean place to study. This is nothing."

And so, Jingyi and the cleaning lady worked together for a few more minutes, rearranging desks, dusting and sweeping. Neither seemed to have realized how quickly time passed, until the door swung open to reveal Jin Ling carrying a massive Starbucks drink in one hand and the keys to his car in the other, a backpack hanging off one of his shoulders.

He looked at Jingyi, then at the cleaning lady, and, as the woman thanked him for the help and left, he couldn't help lowering the rim of his sunglasses with a smirk. "Training for your future workplace?"

Jingyi rolled his eyes. "How are you able to walk around with your head so far up your ass?"

"With great ease in designer shoes." Jin Ling replied, taking the seat in front of Jingyi's. "Now how come you're so early?"

"I'm being responsible."

"Yeah, right, and I'm poor. What other lies are we telling?"

Jingyi half debated throwing his hot coffee in Jin Ling's face but decided against it. There were no coffee shops around close enough for him to go get another and return in time for class.

"You ask about me, but why are you so early?"

"I drove dad to work. His license was suspended for speeding and now he's making me drive him around like a fucking chaffeur!"

"You guys shit money. Why isn't he using an uber or something?"

Jin Ling took a long, tired sip of his drink. "He says it's good driving practice for me. And mom won't drive him because she told him if he gets one more speeding ticket, he's on his own."

Jingyi couldn't help a mischevious grin. "So it looks like you're training for your future workplace too!"

------

Lan Jingyi was hungry. He was pretty sure that his whole class was, it was lunch time after all, and you could hear a stomach growling every few seconds.

Thing is, Jingyi did have food. Plenty of it. Because he knew he would be getting hungry, he had 12h of classes back to back, after all, of course he needed to eat.

The problem was that the professor promised them a 15 minute break halfway through the class... and had yet to deliver on that, droning on about some boring lesson that Jingyi couldn't even be bothered to take notes for. He was too hungry to write, and he could always ask Sizhui to fill him in later.

The professor began drawing something on the board but stopped midway through.

"You guys are not paying any attention to me at all. What's going on?"

"We're so hungry, professor!" A female voice responded, and Jingyi was quick to recognize her as Song Qing, the insanely smart girl two years younger than him that got into university on a gifted kid scholarship.

The professor sighed. "Why didn't you guys say so? I'm hungry too, let's eat up so we focus better! Brains don't work on empty stomachs!"

The class blinked at the man, confused for a few seconds as he took out a pink lunch box from his bag. "What, you think I eat your essays for lunch or something?"

Everyone began pulling out their own food, from sandwiches to cakes, snacks, salads and everything in between.

"You have a cute lunch box." Song Qing commented, barely holding back a giggle.

The professor laughed. "My daughter packed my lunch this morning, okay? She said this is her lucky lunch box, and wanted me to have a good day, so she gave it to me."

The class collectively aww'd at that, before returning to their food. Jingyi greedily bit into his chicken sandwich, hoping to God nobody heard him moan with both delight and relief.

"Jingyi, you really need to stop moaning into your food like that." Zizhen commented as he stabbed a cherry tomato from his to go salad with a fork, "It's weird."

"Have a bite of this and you'll get it." Jingyi offered, and Zizhen shrugged, taking him up on it. The moment flavor filled his mouth, his eyes fluttered closed and a low "mm" escaped him.

"See? It's amazing!"

"Will you guys stop orgasming over food?" Jin Ling intervened. "The rest of us want to eat in peace."

"Food orgasms are the best." Jingyi replied before taking another generous bite of his sandwich.

Jin Ling mumbled something, sinking his spoon in his container of hummus, but Jingyi and Zizhen continued to fawn over their food anyway.

---

When Sizhui returned to his dorm room that day, exhausted after a long day of studying in the library, he had not expected to find his roommate, Jingyi, with a flip flop in one hand and a massive can of big spray in the other, looking nothing short of a hunter.

"Jingyi. What the hell."

"There is a massive cockroach hiding around here." Jingyi answers sternly, eyes searching the floors. "And I am going to kill it."

Sizhui sighed, placed his book bag on his bed and wondered whether to join Jingyi in his hunts or just go to bed and leave him be.

But- "Hah! There you are!" was followed by the comical sound of a flip flop hitting the wooden floors, and Sizhui realized that his friend could do very well without him too.

"So." Jingyi began, placing his weaponry down. "How was today?"

"Exhausting. Did you do any studying?"

"No, I hunted the cockroach."

"Jingyi. The final is in two days."

"I couldn't have focused knowing there was a cockroach."

"Teacher Lan is so going to fail you."

Jingyi sent him a pleading, wet dog look. "And you're just gonna let that happen...? After I saved you from that terrible beast just now?"

"I'm taking Zizhen as my roommate next year."

"As if he doesn't mooch off you too!"

"So you agree. You do mooch off me!"

---

It was once again 6 am on a Monday and Jingyi wanted to die. Well, maybe not die, but definitely sleep. Like the dead.

Still, he had to go to class. Sizhui's didn't start until 12, that lucky bastard, so he had to go through the terrible grogginess of his early morning on his own.

He was just about to get into the shower - bless Sizhui for having picked a room with an en-suite bathroom - when he heard the unmistakable sounds of... well, fucking.

They were doing it in the other room, obviously, but the walls had either thinned out over night or his neighbours just happened to be screamers. Either way, Jingyi's already foul mood was not eased by the litany of moans and begs and curses from the other side of the wall - who fucks at 6 am on a Monday, first of all, and second, who does it so damn loudly too?!

He tried to focus on his own washing up routine, tried arguing to himself that, perhaps, he too would do that if he had someone to do it with, and it was a free country, people could fuck anywhere, any time.

But the moment that he began to hear screaming, all that flew out the window and he knocked loudly into the wall, three consecutive times.

The noise stopped for a while after that, and he was gratefully enjoying the silence, only to hear, loud and clear from the other side: "that's why you get no bitches, man!"

It took all Jingyi had not to go down to their door and start a fight.

God, he hates mornings.

---

"You aren't seriously going to pick golden accents." Jingyi said, incredulous. "That's the most cliche, overdone, boring choice!

Jin Ling rolled his eyes. "It's called timeless, you dumbass. A classic."

"Are we really fighting over decorative accents right now?" Sizhui asked, exasperated. "This whole thing is fictional, guys, it's not real! We aren't actually organizing this art gallery!"

And they were not. For one of their classes, the professor wanted them to come up with an event to organize on the basis of the information he gave them, following a strategy and some pre-defined steps. It was meant to test them on their knowledge, as well as show them what event organizing entails and whether they would be up for a career in the field.

"We have to do it right still!" Jingyi argued. "And I won't have fucking golden accents! I know you Jins have gold for breakfast but this is supposed to be fine art!"

"Your ass has never seen gold filigree and it shows! Gold is elegant, subtle. What colors do you want to use, huh? Magenta?!"

Zizhen sighed. "Calm down, you two. Our gallery theme is Cloud Recesses. There are no golden clouds."

"The sun is yellow!" Jin Ling argued.

Jingyi had to intervene. "It's the Cloud Recesses, not the Sun Recesses!"

"And where the fuck do you think the sun is? Not behind clouds?!"

Sizhui sighed quietly, turning to his other friend as the two kept arguing. "Zizhen, what do you think of light blue?"

"Sounds good. White could work too, but an ashen type, we don't want the contrast to be too obvious."

"I'll write that down. Say, how much did our budget add up to?"

"500k."

"Jin Ling." Sizhui called out, just as he was about to send a book Jingyi's way. "Where do we get 500k from? That's how much the event costs."

"We'll sponsor it. We as in Jin Corp. And add Jiang Corp too, jiujiu wouldn't mind and if he does, I'll threaten him that I'll buy out my stocks."

"Fuckin' capitalist." Jingyi glared, "But if we get such rich sponsorship, we should organize an after party too."

"Oh so I'm a fucking capitalist, but then you go around and spend my money?"

"What good is it for if you don't spend it?"

"You know what? Fair."

[l223m0nade]

a tiny ficlet sprouted in my head so I wrote it down and here it is!

1940s Steve and Bucky, looks like our boy’s gonna have to take a sick day but that’s not so bad when you have a smol Steve dishing out TLC.

Steve was making coffee when he heard a soft groan from the bedroom. He had woken up before Bucky, which was unusual, and he was starting to suspect his guy might be coming down sick. He’d been extra tired the night before, not talking much and falling asleep early with a headache, and this morning he’d been snoring a little like he was getting congested. 

Steve crossed the tiny kitchen to look in on the shared bedroom, where Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking sleep-rumpled but unrested, and pale with a slight flush suggesting a fever. He rubbed a hand over his face and gave a husky cough. Then his breath caught, his eyebrows turned up, and his eyes glazed over before squeezing shut as he turned to the side and sneezed heavily, “huh, huh—UHSCHiieew!” 

He rubbed his nose with a groan and croaked, “mornin.”

“Oh, Buck,” Steve sighed sympathetically. He crossed the room and gently felt Bucky’s neck under his jaw, where his glands were definitely swollen. He ran his hand over his forehead and through his hair, noting the warmth of a slight fever. He tutted. “You’re sick, honey.” Bucky gave a small, hazy smile at the endearment. “This looks like what I had two weeks ago. I was hopin you’d dodged it.”

“Guess not,” Bucky rasped, leaning into Steve’s touch. His expression turned hazy and urgent the next moment, and he leaned away. “Stevie—snff— I’m gonna sneeze—huh—again—” he gasped the last word and snapped his head to the side, “huh—ah—HUH-KSSCHooo!! Uugh.” He sniffed again, and Steve could hear how stuffed and runny his nose was already getting. “Think I’mb gonna, snff, need a handkerchief before too long,” he said, worrying his nose like the tickle was still bothering him.

“I’ll get you a few. And some tea— fine, coffee,” Steve said in response to Bucky’s whimper of protest. “But then tea, and some soup from the deli. You’re taking it easy today.”

“Yes, ndurse,” Bucky grinned, before a shiver and another sneeze came over him. This time he tried to hold it back against his wrist and it came out as a pitiful-sounding, wet “hhh—TDSSCHhh!”

He definitely needed that handkerchief. Steve left to get some, feeling sorry that Bucky was sick with his miserable cold, but still a little happy he had the chance to pay back some of the care Bucky was always giving him.

[intheseautumnhands]

AO3 Wrapped: 3, 6, 17, 29?

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Sheerly for the fact that I finally did it, it's gotta be the Steve/Peggy vid to Kill the Director. It was a learning process and I am honestly still really happy with it, even if I’ve gotten to the point where I can’t help seeing flaws.

Fic-wise, it's either the Hadestown soulmate fic I wrote for Hurt/Comfort Exchange, which I just think came out really well, or some truths get tired the longer we wait, where I am just damn proud of finally finishing something that ended up going past 5k.

6. Favorite title you used

I really like when I come up with titles that have a second layer of meaning that can easily go missed, either in relation to the reference (because pretty much all my titles are song lyrics or poem lines) or the canon or whatever. So I really like the title from the Fraiser fic I did for seasons of drabbles, which is about the three wives of Niles Crane -- "Give Him Your Hand Today", which is from a Guys and Dolls song that includes the line, "marry the man today and change his ways tomorrow". It fits the problems with marriages 1 and 2 very, very well.

Similarly, the Jack Murdock ficlet for the three sentence fest is called "there's no such thing as an unhaunted house", from a Brenna Twohy poem. On the surface, it fits Jack's wanting to give Matt somewhere to come home to that's not bogged down with bad memories like his own; but it also alludes to the way Jack's going to leave Matt with his own haunting in the end in a way that I really liked.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

I have had a Kasimir Jones problem for two years running and it doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon. He has eaten a corner of my brain, it’s almost on par with the Abigail Hobbs/River Tam problem at this point.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

From fic that’s been posted:

The first year Hades came to fetch her early, Persephone hadn’t thought much of it.

It was a matter of days, then, not weeks or months, and the hand he’d reached out to her had been unsteady. He’d looked ashamed to be there already, shamed to be standing in her mother’s garden instead of meeting her at the station. That he hadn’t held out against the pain, maybe. He’d always taken it harder than her, but she hadn’t held that against him yet. How could she? She had the flowers and the vines, the seeds, her mother, the sun and the sky— a million little balms to help her push through the pain. All he had was the waiting.

(The Steady Beat of Our Bloodstreams)

Runner-up: the three-sentence fic about Lilith and ghosts

From drafts:

"You know, the first time I've ever stepped foot out of this city was our trip to the Deathlands." He stops, not sure how to explain the rest of it from there, but Lilith's smile is soft and sad, and he's not sure he needs to explain all of it for her. "I need to see what happens to it now," is all he says, and she nods.

"I thought so," she admits. She stands up, and for a moment Kasimir thinks she's leaving, but instead she darts forward. The hug is unexpected, but he wraps his arms around her tightly and lets her hold on as long as she feels the need. The snakes rustle against his shoulder; it's a strange sensation. He's almost sad he won't get a chance to get used to it.

He swipes at his eyes as she pulls away. Lilith, kindly, doesn't say anything about it.

(the art of living with a ticking heart, Blades fic which I started the night after the finale and am still trying to finish, whoops)

( AO3 Wrapped Writer’s Edition )

[antique-traveler]

snips and snails

alright this gave me way more trouble than i thought it would but here's the tdov ficlet that @shen-hongzi-backup requested! (of course the trek episode they're watching is s5e17 "The Outcast", what else would it be?) also this blog believes in he/him foggy x he/they matt supremacy

Something something Matt being wholesome to Foggy about their dysphoria. Bonus if Matt is nonbinary because what the heck is gender i can't see it anyway

1.5k, G, mattfoggy (ftm!foggy, nonbinary!matt) on ao3

“New guy at the barbershop today was an asshole. I’m gonna call it an early night. Love you.” The text-to-speech voice from Matt’s phone was robotic and clinical as it read Foggy’s text from across the room. Matt paused, halfway into his Daredevil suit, and strode over to his bed to pick up his phone.

“Call Foggy,” he said, setting down his gloves and furrowing his brow.

“Hey, Matty,” Foggy’s voice through the receiver was timid and dejected, obviously not in the mood for any kind of bright greeting.

“Hey, I got your text,” Matt said cautiously. “What happened?”

Foggy sighed and the sound of creaking leather clued Matt in that Foggy had just fallen onto his leather armchair. “I went in for a haircut today, I just needed to trim off some split ends and shit, but there was a barber there I hadn’t seen before. Some old guy who looked like he used to give guys buzz cuts before they shipped off to Vietnam. Anyway, he went on this whole rant about how my hair was ‘too girly’ and ‘made my face look so feminine’. He ended up cutting, like, two inches off my hair and it just… the whole thing sucks and I just wanna forget it happened.”

Matt swallowed and curled his free hand into a fist “Shit, Fogs, I’m sorry that happened. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Foggy said, trailing off slightly. “Feel pretty shitty at the moment, but I probably just need to sleep it off, you know?” There was a heavy silence between them before Foggy continued, “You going out tonight?”

Matt bit his lip and thought for a moment. Focusing his senses, he could hear the entire neighborhood. The Kitchen was quiet tonight, peaceful. Across the street, a baby just said his first word, a few blocks away, a woman just proposed to her girlfriend, and further than that, someone just made it through the piano piece they were learning without making a single mistake. Daredevil could take a night off, he needed to be with Foggy tonight. Matt cleared his throat, “No, no, the city’s pretty quiet tonight. How about I come over? We can put on some Trek and order a pizza.”

“Matty, you don’t have to–”

“Fogs, I want to. You had a bad day, and I wanna be here for you. Isn’t that, like, the whole point of being your boyfriend?” Matt felt childish to admit it even to himself, but saying the word “boyfriend” still gave him butterflies sometimes, even after however many months he and Foggy had been together.

Foggy’s sigh had a little bit of a laugh in it, and Matt knew he had won. “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Murdock. You want Deep Space 9 or The Next Generation?”

“Dealer’s choice,” Matt said, starting to unzip the Daredevil suit. “See you in five. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Foggy echoed, before hanging up the phone with a click.

Matt had known that Foggy was transgender since a few days after they met. He’d bumped into the sharps container for the needles that Foggy used for his testosterone injections, and Foggy had laid it all out for him the second Matt asked about it. He had been matter-of-fact, clinical in describing it at first, as if the slightest emotion in his voice might send Matt on a bigoted tirade. He supposed that Foggy had been justified in his wariness of how Matt might react, Matt would be the first to admit he’d led a pretty sheltered life in some regards, and he didn’t think he’d ever consciously met another transgender person before Foggy. All that being said, though, Matt still read the news. He still knew what it meant to be transgender, and he wasn’t about to ask for a room change just because he’s roommate’s body was a little different than his.

Since then, Matt had been through it all with Foggy. He stood up to relatives who still called Foggy “she” at Christmas, he taught him how to shave, he stayed with Foggy through his entire recovery after his top surgery. It had been amazing, watching Foggy slowly become more and more himself with each year they shared together. Foggy’s face still heated up whenever Matt called him his boyfriend, and Matt loved the feeling of Foggy’s perfect parallel scars beneath his fingers.

Matt knocked on Foggy’s door with his left hand, while his right held his cane and a sweatshirt of his for Foggy to borrow. Foggy always loved wearing Matt’s clothes, especially when he was in a bad mood, so Matt figured he’d just go ahead and bring something with him before Foggy got a chance to steal the shirt off his back.

Foggy quietly opened the door and Matt flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Hey, handsome,” he said, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Foggy chuckled lightly as he let Matt in, “You know, that might’ve cheered me up a little if you could actually see me.”

“I’m pretty sure it did cheer you up, actually,” Matt said, noting the slightest acceleration in Foggy’s heartbeat.

Foggy scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, heartbeat bullshit, whatever. You go sit down, I’m gonna get a pizza.”

Before turning towards the couch, Matt extended the sweatshirt in his hand towards Foggy. “Here,” he said, “for you.”

Foggy took it from Matt’s hand and was quiet for a second before letting out a small “thank you.” Matt leaned forward for another light kiss, then folded up his cane and made himself comfortable on the couch.

The next half hour was slow and easy. Foggy was tucked into Matt’s side wrapped in his sweatshirt, and the heavy weight of the pizza in Matt’s stomach combined with the quiet dialogue of the Star Trek episode on Foggy’s TV made him feel lethargic and content.

“You are male,” said one of the aliens on the screen. “Tell me about males. What is it that makes you different from females?”

Foggy hummed contentedly from below Matt’s chin. They’d rewatched this show so many times that Matt practically had all of Foggy’s narrations memorized, so Matt had just told him to take it easy tonight and not worry about narrating. Matt chewed on his lip and let himself get lost in thought. A couple of months prior, Foggy had managed to convince Matt to go to Pride, after weeks of hounding and bargaining and pleading. They had gone early in the morning, when there were sure to be thinner crowds and at least slightly less noise. Foggy had been shirtless, proudly showing off his top surgery scars, and Matt had a single rubber bracelet around his wrist in pink, purple, and blue.

They had met so many people there from every corner of the community, and Matt had left with a small collection of every braille pamphlet he came across, just to show the people who had bothered to print them that it was worth it. Among the pamphlets on intersectionality and drag history and lesbian art, there was one that Matt found himself rereading for weeks: Beyond Ones and Zeros: Decoding the Myth of the Gender Binary. It was overly verbose and used objectively too many coding puns, but Matt couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d always known to some extent that he had trouble connecting with other men most of the time. He found that he just… didn’t quite understand how they operated. Sure, he’d never been particularly interested in sports or cars, but he also didn’t understand what put him in the category of “man”, beyond his chromosomes and whatnot.

Meeting Foggy had been what clued him in to that disconnect, but that pamphlet had been what really sent him spiraling. It talked about the origins of the modern day gender binary, its fallacies and double standards, the existence of life outside of just “man” or “woman”, and Matt felt himself relax a little bit into its words. Matt felt Foggy’s weight next to him on the couch, and heard the crew of the Enterprise discuss the genderless society they were working with, and made a decision.

“Hey, Foggy?” he said, squeezing Foggy’s arm a little bit to get his attention. Foggy made a quizzical little noise and Matt took a deep breath. “What would you think about using they/them pronouns for me, just sometimes?”

There was silence for a moment before Foggy shifted to look at Matt, and the sound of lips sliding against his teeth said that he was smiling brightly. “I’d love to, Matty. Thank you for telling me.”

Matt shrugged. “I haven’t really told you anything,” they deflected. “Just trying something out.” Their heart was pounding in their chest, and they knew that they were blushing, but they couldn’t quite find it in themself to be embarrassed.

“Well,” Foggy countered, “thank you for ‘trying it out’, then. I’m proud of you.”

Matt smiled, warmth filling their whole body, and they leaned in for a kiss. Foggy met them with a smile, cradling Matt’s head in his hands and humming into their mouth. If this was what it took to make Foggy feel better, then Matt was willing to do it every damn time they came over.

[tozettastone]

stupidest prompt — dorian/bull with BEES

dumb prompts for dumb ficlets

Oh my god, okay. Sure. Bees. (Living up to my dumb ficlets potential here.)

*

The bee guy is hot. The Iron Bull... has mixed feelings.

He's not an unexpected bee guy, not like a roving bee guy who just showed up mysteriously. The Iron Bull did call for a bee guy. That's absolutely a thing he asked for. (Because of the bees, you see. He's fine with one or two bees. But there's gotta be hundreds out there. Just a low, thrumming drone of pure bee drifting ominously on the breeze. It's a lot of bees, okay.)

The Iron Bull really expected a bee guy to show up in a big white onesie with a bag over his head. But the bee guy gets out of his car and the dry dirt of the driveway scrapes softly beneath one leather boot, and he's—okay, he's wearing white, in the sense that he has pristine white jeans and inside them his legs just kinda keep on going. He's got gold jewellery. Lean-muscled arms beneath an asymmetrical white shirt. A perfectly even bronze tan. On the one hand, hot is good. The Iron Bull loves beautiful people of all kinds. He makes a point of getting to know them as well—by which he specifically means carnally—as possible as often as possible. On the other, the Iron Bull is a big broad manly man who beats up other men for a living and he would REALLY have preferred if the hot bee guy wasn't like, first meeting him when he's hiding behind his curtains. From. You know. From the bees. But he is, he guesses, so that's that. The Iron Bull has been stuck in his house for three hours without milk for his coffee because he really doesn't want to go out and face the bees. The bees are between him and the milk. He decided early on to just drink it black today. It occurs to him that this seems sort of pathetic. They're bees, man. The Iron Bull has a couple of minutes between the hot guy eyeballing the swarm and the hot guy rapping his knuckles smartly on the door to think about how you come back from "hiding from bees" to save face once you've been cowering for three hours. The bee guy just walks down the drive way, ignoring the few bees that float their fluffy insect butts around him as he goes. The bee guy knocks on the door. The Iron Bull stares at it. He's not actually a coward. He can open the door to the hot bee guy. He opens the door. "Hi," he says. The bee guy blinks up at him. And up. And up. He looks better up close, the Iron Bull realises, as improbable as that sounds. His ridiculous beauty mark isn't even drawn on. He just looks like that.

Fuck me, he thinks, and then he's not sure if this thought is an expression of incredulity or just, you know, a fervent desire. The bee guy opens his mouth. Closes it again. "Bee guy," says the Iron Bull, leaning against the door frame. "Hey." "Yes. I'm here about the... the bees. Dorian. You're, the, ah, Iron Bull?" says the bee guy. Dorian recovers enough to look at the Iron Bull, eyes drifting from the heavy metal brace on his knee all the way to his towering horns, crossing every rippling muscle-bound inch between. Disrespectful, that look. Thank god. "I'm the Iron Bull," says the Iron Bull. "You wanna come in?" Dorian hesitates. "The bees are out here." Yeah, thinks the Iron Bull, and I'm in here. Duh.

[gallawitchxx]

ficlet friday 🖤🔮

part two of tarot reader!mickey & psych student!ian. had to give those boys a date... read part one here or the whole thing on a03.

- - - - -

“So you, uh, learn anything neat in that book?” Mickey asked, lifting the beer Ian had brought him to his lips in a way that was designed to get Ian to look at them. “While you were waitin’?”

Mickey’s last appointment of the day was also his most difficult. As hard as he tried to focus on the cards in front of him, his mind kept wandering to the door. To the couch that sat in the shop lobby and freckled fingers flipping through satiny pages.

He typically ran the show during his readings. Over time, he’d cultivated a way of walking the fine line between frank and empathetic. Clients came to him for his no bullshit delivery and because he understands the fragile nature of the space he’s tasked with holding. What folks are really putting in his hands when they take a seat in the armchair across from him and unwittingly send their energies his way.

He’d have to make it up to Karen on the next one.

“Yeah, actually,” Ian answered, eyes glued to the pink of Mickey’s tongue dipping inside the neck of the bottle as he took a drink. He forced himself not to look at the movements of his Adam’s apple as Mickey swallowed. “Apparently, if you write an amount of money down on a dried Bay Leaf, your wish will come true. What do you know about that?”

“Well, knowin’ and doin’ are two different things,” Mickey said with a grin. “Personally, I ain’t ever seen foliage cure systemic poverty, so not really my style, but—different strokes, man.”

Ian thumbed at his own beer, where the label had begun to peel. “What is your style?”

“What you didn’t get enough today?”

“I’ve always been the kind of guy who needs to do things more than once to really get it, you know?” He said with a shrug.

There were questions and answers in the looks that followed, stories swapped silently between two pairs of sparkling eyes.

“Fuck Gallagher, you better watch yourself,” Mickey said, leaning back in his seat, spreading his legs just a bit and biting the corner of his lip. “A guy could get the wrong idea about you.”

Ian smiled. Warm, open. Disarming.

“Think you already know enough about me to form your own opinion.”

Mickey nodded, taking another sip of his drink. Apparently, he was making quite a few exceptions today, as he didn’t exactly make a habit of going out with clients after reading for them. Aside from it being wildly unprofessional, he didn’t know what to do with the intimate information shared outside of the confines of the shop’s back room.

But here they were. Sitting across from each other at a very different kind of table, one where they both held cards. In their hands, on their sleeves. To lay down or withhold as they wished.

“Yeah, I, uh—I appreciate you tellin’ me all that stuff earlier. Didn’t have to do that. I’d already given up the goose without all the details.”

“‘Course. I mean, it kind of just happened,” he said with a chuckle. “Did I plan on it? No… But do I regret it?”—Mickey’s eyes met Ian’s—“Also no.”

“So’s that why you’re taking that psych shit? With Mandy?”

“Yes and no,” Ian answered, tilting his head softly from one side to the other and pursing his lips. “Too early to say where it’ll lead, but eventually I would like to be able to help out kids like me. Or worse. Who don’t have anyone when they’re diagnosed. Get ‘em through those first hard steps. There’s so much shitty care out there, it’s unbelievable.”

“Man, don’t I know it,” Mickey offered, blowing out a breath. “There’s a fuck ton of grifters playin’ my game too, and besides that crap bein’ a surefire way to royally mess with your karma, it’s takin’ advantage of people. Ain’t right.”

“I’d do it different,” Ian said, his demeanor growing serious. “Explain it in a way that doesn’t make it seem so scary. Come at it from a place of having gone through it myself and try to just…be there.” He threw Mickey a soft smile. “Like you do.”

Mickey flushed. Embarrassed. “Yeah, well, they say don’t go to a witch who doesn’t also have a witch…”

“Oh, they say that, do they?” Ian played.

“Yeah, asshole,” Mickey volleyed. “They do.” He took another drink, clocking that he was nearing the end of the bottle and Ian’s was still nearly full. He pressed on. “So, one reading and I made a believer outta you, huh?”

“I’m not saying that exactly, just… There are similarities. What you do and all. Except that when I hear voices in my head, I have to call my doctor. Get shit adjusted.”

There was a glimmer of something deeper there—slippery—but it was said with such ease. Mickey ached to touch him.

“Kinda think there’s room for all. Magic and Medicine,” he said, thumbing at his eyebrow and tapping at the table. Keeping his hands busy. “I’d never tell a client to go off their meds or stop seein’ a doctor—that would be fuckin’ irresponsible. But, it’s not everyone’s bag to see a shrink. I provide a service, a tailored service. It ain’t one size fits all, and just ‘cause I didn’t waste my precious time and money gettin’ some whack degree don’t mean I don’t help people.”

Ian looked down, sheepishly, his hands coming up in lighthearted defense. “I don’t doubt that for a second, Mickey. You already helped me.”

Mickey felt the same rush as when he first looked at that Five of Swords from the bottom of the deck.

Don’t miss what’s right in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah, drink your beer,” he said with a roll of his eyes, trying to mask the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Shit, you’re almost done with yours. Want another?”

“Naw, man. It’s cool, I can wait for you to—Unless you don’t want—“

“Oh, I want,” Ian reassured. “Just taking it slow.”

The sentiment was dripping with so much meaning it had Mickey’s head swirling again. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask—

“So how’d you get into all of this?” Ian asked, quickly changing the subject. His voice was lively. Interested. “Couldn’t imagine anyone from the neighborhood being into this kinda thing.”

Mickey huffed. “No shit, I’d be fuckin’ dead as a doornail if my pops was still alive. Thought being a “pole smokin’ queer” was bad enough.” He looked up, so Ian would know that he meant to reveal himself. Test the waters. Extend a bit too after all that Ian had shared. “I dunno, man. Always kinda just knew shit? Like the thoughts were just there? They call it bein’ ‘Claircognizant.’”

“Sounds official.”

“Just a big ass word for not bein’ able to explain myself,” he laughed. “Uh, Mandy actually had a deck of cards, hidden in her fuckin’ sock drawer, and I—I got my hands on it and it was like…lightning. Something clickin’ into place. Like all that stuff I knew could actually make sense if I just followed along.” Ian watched wonder dance across Mickey’s features, his eyes calm and almost pleased. Like he was floating away and into the memory itself. Then, he shook it away and returned back to the table. “I don’t understand all the ins and outs of the whole thing, but I’ve been doin’ this long enough to trust what pops into my head.”

“You have a gift,” Ian said with a wink. “I’m sure people see that.”

Mickey cocked his head. “Not gonna be turnin’ anyone into toads or anythin’. Some do come in lookin’ for a show, but like I said before—I’m a glorified translator.”

“I think you’re much more than that, Mickey.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t think your review’s exactly unbiased, Gallagher.”

Ian’s face srunched. Cute. “It’s true though. You’re clearly very good at what you do.”

“Shit’s rough, man. We all need a little insight. I just try to… explain it in a way that doesn’t make it seem so scary. Come at it from a place of having gone through it myself or whatever.”

Mickey fidgeted, hoping that Ian would hear his words repeated back to him and know what they meant. That he’d be able to read between the lines and maybe even read Mickey.

“I’m really glad I decided to come in today,” Ian said, a bit breathless. “Almost didn’t.”

“Woulda been a fuckin’ shame if you hadn't," Mickey said, and meant.

They talked some more as Ian slowly finished his beer—Mickey about opening the shop and how fucked it was to get the government involved in anything, let alone magical care, and Ian about school and his part-time job at the research library on campus. It was simple between them, the tendrils of all they’d shared creating a quilted foundation upon which to build.

When Ian stood to grab their empty bottles, Mickey was suddenly and inexplicably overwhelmed by the need to kiss him. To catch his perfect bottom lip in his teeth and pull it into his mouth. To taste him, consume him—be consumed by him.

He slid out of the booth, coming to standing in front of him, their chests brushing slightly as Mickey caught his balance.

“I can grab the next round too, Mick, don't—“

“Can I kiss you?” Mickey asked, wholly unsure of himself and yet forward as fuck.

Ian’s face broke out in a warm grin, white teeth flashing and green eyes glittering. He set the bottles back on the table and stepped in towards Mickey, one hand moving to hold the back of his head and the other resting on his neck.

“Would be a fucking shame if you didn’t,” he said, leaning down.

Mickey’s breath hitched as Ian’s soft lips landed on his. Sweet. The pressure fucking perfect.

Then, Ian opened his mouth to Mickey, slotting their lips together, their tongues meeting in a delicious slide of want and trust and something more. Fuck. Already. As if they’d known each other their entire lives. Today. Yesterday. Forever.

It felt like…lightning. Something clicking into place.

[angryschnauzer]

Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

-

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

-

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #48

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Eli C. (The Break Up) 

“You look like shit.”

It’s Friday morning. Eli slides into a chair at his usual table at the coffee shop. His best friend Becca is already there, sipping on her nonfat mocha with extra whipped cream, grinning like an amused fool. He’s glad someone can be so cheery this early in the morning.

“Lay off, I had a long night.” Eli savors the taste of his own black coffee - hoping it’ll kick in so he can at least pay half attention in class.

“Did you now?” Becca’s eyebrow is raised high with interest.

Eli lets out a groan, leaning back in his chair. “You don’t want to hear about it.”

Becca leans forward. “No, I think I do. What trashy thing did you do now?”

Eli takes another drink of his coffee, settling in. Fine. It’s not like Becca ever lets these things go. “You know how I’ve been on those show choir message boards for the past year or so?”

“Oh, god, this again?” She’s more delighted than appalled.

“I’m allowed to have my hobbies.”

“Yeah, your totally gay hobbies.”

“Says the woman who has her hand in pussy any chance she can get.”

“Anyway…” Becca pushes on. “Your totally normal obsession with show choirs, continue…”

“About week ago, I get to chatting with this guy named Blaine.”

“Really? His name is Blaine?” Becca lets out a hardy laugh. “Of course this story is going to get gayer.”

“Hey, you wanted to hear it.” Eli pushes back.

“Okay, okay, continue.”

“So we get to chatting, and I’m flirty and he’s flirty back, or at least that’s how I took it. So a couple days ago I looked him up on Facebook. Turns out the guy is totally hot - in that classic movie star kind of way.” Eli thinks about it - how it was really pretty harmless at the beginning. Maybe he misread the situation? Maybe he didn’t. Does he regret it? No, not really.

Becca grins her annoyingly devilish grin. “Did you go weak in the knees?”

“You know what, I did - so shut it,” Eli continues. “So, I asked if he wanted to hook up sometime.”

Becca feigns being impressed. “Wow - and he agreed without even seeing you? I mean - it’s not like your profile picture is telling a whole lot.”

“It’s a metaphor, Becca.”

“It’s overcompensation, Eli.”

“Anyway, yes he came over and we hooked up. And that’s that.” Eli doesn’t think there’s much more to tell - but Becca doesn’t seem satisfied.

“That cannot be the full story.”

“Do you really want the sordid details of my sex life?”

“Hey, you got to hear the comedy and tragedy that was Veronica Stalls, so yeah, I do.”

“Okay it was…” Eli lets out a long breath. The image of Blaine remains seared in his head - the moment he first saw him in person, showing up at his dorm room with a sad kind of beauty about him. He had been captivating - but Eli had always been one for lost causes. “The whole thing ended up being very odd. We agreed to meet at my place at seven, right? Well, he doesn’t show up. And I didn’t think much of it - cause I mean, hooking up with internet people can sometimes be sketchy. But then about quarter after ten, he knocks on my door. So, I let him in, and there’s very little talking. Like, the dude was all over me almost the second he walks in the door.”

“Um, hot.”

“More like very aggressive,” Eli corrects. Had it been hot? Yes, surely. Did something feel utterly wrong? Absolutely. Did he want to give up sex that night? Not even a little bit. “Not that it wasn’t a turn on. I just wasn’t expecting it. Online the guy is so polite and almost demure. I figured I’d have to be the one to push him a little. But nope, we were on the bed making out and grinding in, like, ten minutes.”

“Hey, no-strings-attached sex sounds kinda nice.”

In theory, it had been very nice. “Yeah, still…” Eli tilts his head back and forth as he thinks back on it. “It was like… it was like he wasn’t really there?” He remembers Blaine’s vacancy very clearly. It had been just a hook-up. No reason for Eli to take that personally, but some kind of connection would have been nice. Maybe even acknowledgement of what they were doing. Blaine, however, gave him nothing. “He gave me a handjob, and it was ‘meh’ to be honest with you. No finesse at all. Jerked me off as fast as he could. Then I asked if I could go down on him and, oh boy, that froze him up.”

Becca’s eyes grow wide. She sees people. It’s why they’re friends. “Um, so this already sounds like there’s some issues going on here.”

“Oh, clearly,” Eli nods. “But I mean, we weren’t hooking up to deconstruct whatever messed up feelings he was having. I was pretty clear from the outset that it was just a hookup. At least, I thought I was. Anyway, he finally let me go down on him and…”

“...and?” Becca’s unusually hanging onto his words.

“The dude’s dick was fucking gorgeous.” Eli licks his lips thinking about it again. If there had been one bright spot about last night - it was that dick. “I almost got hard again just looking at it.”

“Oh, I hear ya,” Becca says in a bout of sincerity. “Veronica Stalls’s tits, man. At least I get to keep the image of those in my brain for the rest of my life.”

“Right? Man…” Eli looks around. There are barely any customers there - they’re pretty alone. Still, he feels a little strange being so graphic in public. But Becca’s eyes are hard on him, so he continues. “So, yeah, I start to blow him, but he doesn’t really get into it, you know? Like most guys will pull my hair, or fuck my mouth, or whatever, but he just lay there letting me do it to him. And, I mean, seriously, I have no regrets sucking on a dick that delicious, but it did bum me out that he wasn’t, at least, a little into it. Took him fucking forever to come, too.”

“Yeah, he totally sounds suspect,” Becca agrees. “You were safe, right?”

“Oh, totally,” Eli nods. “So afterwards, we kind of make out a little, or more so, I kiss him a little, but he’s just, like, looking as if he’s going to throw up. So I got up to get some water, and by the time I get back, he’s pretty much dressed and out the door.”

“Oh my god,” Becca says, as if it is all clicking for her. “You were, like, the other guy, Eli. This dude totally has a boyfriend or something.”

“Not gonna lie, the thought crossed my mind,” Eli admits. To be honest, it had been fully on his mind but he hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Was he selfish for that? Was he selfish for just wanting to get off? “He blocked me this morning, so… I guess that was that. I feel a little bad though. Not that he blocked me - I guess I expected that. Just that I took part in whatever bad turn this guy was taking.”

“Don’t,” Becca shakes her head emphatically. “You didn’t do anything wrong. And honestly - sounds like you’re better off not being a part of whatever mess this dude’s life is.”

“True,” Eli gives a shrug. “He was a nice guy, though. I hope he figures his shit out.” He gives one last lingering thought to Blaine, hoping wherever he is today that he isn’t full of regret. Eli isn’t. Ah well. Moving on. “Meanwhile… I have a couple of hits from Grindr I should tell you about.”

“Oh, dear god…”

[definitelynottony]

"Walkie-talkies"

For @pretty-bratty cause I promised him this ficlet! Inspired by this and my Bambi's amazing imagination 😘

____

"Can you hear me. Over?" Billy whispered. 

"Over what? It's like dead silent." Steve whispered back. 

"No, over is how you end the message, Steve. Over." 

"What?" Steve asked, confused. 

Billy sighed "Nevermind Stevie. It's not important." 

"Okay…" Steve huffed in that cute spoiled way that Billy loves so much. 

"I still can't believe you actually swiped these stupid things from the gremlins. They practically sleep with them." Billy laughed toying at the walkie-talkie Steve gave him earlier today when they met at the Wheeler's house, dropping off the kids for a sleepover. 

"You seem surprised, I'm totally like a ninja! I snuck them right out of Dustin's backpack when I dropped him off! You know, he's probably going crazy right now actually… poor kid." 

"Poor kid my ass, Harrington. We both know you're gonna go buy him the best new set at Melvald's tomorrow. Plus all those brats are together. They don't need these things." Billy scoffed. Truth be told, he loved how big Steve's heart was for the kids. But right now he wanted all of Steve's attention. 

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right! So stop the whining and let's get on with the sexy time shall we." Billy smirked. Steve could hear practically hear it on the other end of the walkie. 

"You're such a horndog." Steve chuckled trying to stay quiet. 

"Me? Baby this was all your idea!" Billy shot back, feigning shock. Making Steve laugh louder. "Shhh! Stevie! Not so loud. Some ninja you are." 

"Oh shut up! I'm the best ninja ever!" 

"Okay then Mr. Ninja. Let's see some of those moves then. Bend over." Billy grinned, amused with himself. 

"Wait, bend what, over?" Steve asked, confused...again. "Are you doing that weird walkie talk again?"

"Christ. Just bend over for me, Steve." 

"Okay. Okay…. Now what?" 

"Now start fingering yourself." Billy wrapped his hand around himself and started panting. Steve's blush spread from his cheeks down to his chest listening to him. This was such a good idea. Like the best idea ever. Like Steve is actually a genius idea… like the kids are never gonna see these walkie-talkies ever again, kind of good idea. Well, until it wasn't.

"Fuck...Billy…" Steve whimpered. 

"Yeah, feeling good baby?" 

"No. I mean yes, but no! I think my mom woke up." Steve panicked laying back down in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin. Faking sleep like all little kids do. 

"Oh, think Mrs. Harrington wants in on the action?" Billy teased. 

"Dude! First off, gross! Second off, fuck you! and third, shut up! I'll get in trouble if she hears you!" 

"Mmm I like it when you get all demanding, baby. It's sexy as hell." 

 "Biiillllyyy! I'm serious! Shut up!" Steve whined as a plea. 

"Fine… let me know when she goes back to bed." Billy huffed. 

"Okay. She sounds like she's right outside my door. Maybe she heard us?" Steve whispered the play by play. 

"Think she could hear me if I yelled?" Billy snickered. 

"You wouldn't." 

"Oh, but wouldn't I?" 

"Billy. Don't." 

"GOOD MORNING MRS. HARRINGTON!!!!" 

Billy yelled into the walkie-talkie as Steve fumbled trying to shut it off. Shoving it under his pillow when he failed at it. Billy could be heard cackling on the other end. Steve was cursing him and his life, heart racing like he was in a horror movie. 

"I hate you." Steve whispered into the walkie once he heard his mom's bedroom door close again. 

"Mmm I love you too Bambi." Billy said around a shit eating grin. 

"I'm totally serious. I fuckin hate you. I'm never gonna kiss you again. No, I'm never even talking to you again." 

"I know, baby. So I'll be over for breakfast, okay?" 

"Yeah, whatever." Steve huffed, turning over to go to sleep. 

"Stevie?... Steve? Hey, baby, aren't we-" 

Steve found the off switch finally. Billy chuckled himself to sleep. 

________ 

The next morning none other than Billy Hargrove graced the Harrington's door step. 

And as he rang the door bell, Mrs. Harrington is who opened the door. 

"Why, good morning Mrs. Harrington. You look beautiful as always." 

"Billy. I knew I recognized that voice. So it was you who kept Steven up last night?" She shook her head, letting Billy in. 

"Guilty ma'am. Steve got these walkie-talkies you see and well, you know how boys are with their new toys. He kept me up all night testing them out." Billy charmed as they both walked into the kitchen, where Steve greeted them. 

"Mornin' Stevie." Billy smirked, tongue-in-cheek.

"God. It's too early to see your face Hargrove." 

"Steven." His mother scolded. "You could learn some manners from Billy, you know. Instead of keeping the poor boy up with your nonsense." 

"What? I wasn't up all night! Billy's totally lying!"

"Steven. I already knew. And don't shout, it's too early for your antics." His mom said as she sipped her coffee. 

"Yeah, you shouldn't lie to your mother, Stevie. Mother's always know. You can't just hide shit- I mean stuff from them like that." 

"Well said Billy." Mrs. Harrington smiled, taking her coffee to the pool deck. "Billy is such a good influence, I'm glad you're finally making better friend choices." She said before taking her leave. 

Billy smiled and waited, leaning against the counter until she was out of sight before making his way to Steve. "Mmm morning sunshine. Come and give Daddy a kiss." He smirked, cornering Steve against the toaster where he was making pop-tarts. 

"You're not my Daddy and I told you last night no more kisses! I don't kiss assholes." 

"Oh, I highly disagree with that statement, Harrington. You're one of the best ass kissers I know." Steve held back his giggle at the joke. 

"Come on. You know you want to, baby. And I really want you to." Billy leaned in closer. 

"Are you gonna apologize if I do?" 

"Bambi, I'll kiss your ass until the cows come home." 

"It's not a punishment if you actually enjoy it, you know." Steve pawed at Billy's chest. 

"Baby, have you seen your ass? Who wouldn't enjoy that?" 

"I seriously hate you." Steve smirked, leaning in and kissing Billy. 

"Mfff. If that's how you treat someone you hate, baby, I can't wait to see how you treat the guy you love."

"Oh, I treat him a lot worse, believe me." They both laughed into another kiss. 

[vrisrezis]

Wow wow!! I loved the highschool kara ficlet >///< if you’re not tired of this prompt already could you do a highschool ichi x innocent/oblivious reader on Valentine’s Day? Haha I just think the 18matsus are so sweet and love to read about them, thanks so much!!

Thank you sooo much <33 sure thing anon 👍

This was one of my favorite ones to write so I hope you enjoy it

To be honest, ichimatsu had been eyeing you for some time now. It was rather obvious to everyone around him, especially his friends. It was like one of the only times he seemed nervous and fidgety. To him, you were just.. everything? Everything he wanted to be. Sure, he may act like some friendly gentleman around everyone but that wasn’t him. Deep down he was gloomy trash.

You gave him a reason to get up every morning and not give up..? Kinda? High school was tough for him, the drift in his relationship with his brothers had effected him greatly and out of all the things to come out of high school he’s glad befriending you was one of them. He found himself trying to spend time with you more often than even his friends, but his friends didn’t mind.. they knew what it was.

Usually he was just friendly with you, he wanted to believe maybe he could have a chance with you. He got too scared to actually ask you out though. He came close a few times, but then he just said “look at that tree omg” then just ran off.

It really does NOT help he was always a blushy dork around you.

However he’s thankful you are so oblivious, seriously it’s one of the qualities about you he didn’t think would come in handy but it does. You are as oblivious as they come.

Sometimes he feels bad liking you though, since you’re just so innocent. He feels like he’d just corrupt you or something.

Today though, he was painfully aware it was Valentine’s Day.

Usually he didn’t mind this day… much. It was a day he just didn’t care for, he didn’t hate or love it. It annoyed him to see happy couples, something he was quite jealous of.. but overall it was whatever.

This year was different.

He had been dreading this day, because he knew everyone was going to ask him about you or even tease him.

All of his friends kept egging him on to do something for you, as to which his entire face blew red. “Pshh! Me?! Asking y/n out!? Where’d you get that idea?!” He isn’t fooling anyone or course though.

He avoided you, the entire day.

Which wasn’t like him! He was so outgoing! In your eyes at least. You wondered why he hadn’t spoken to you? Was he sick? Has he just been really swamped with schoolwork today? You weren’t sure.

Or maybe he was with his valentine?

The thought upset you, but a cute guy like him has gotta have somebody.. right? You wondered who it could be though.

The girls in your school were going to kill you one day for being so oblivious.

As the day passed by, it was already time for you to go home. Nobody got you anything! Not a chocolate? Not a love note? Nothing?! You were a little disappointed, you know you’re not the prettiest person out there but you had hoped somebody would give you something.. even out of pity.

You sighed, feeling rather disappointed.

But then you saw him, after not seeing him at all.

And he was walking alone? Strange. Did his valentine leave him early?

“Matsuno!!” You yelled, running after him.

He immediately tensed upon hearing your voice. Oh no.. just what he needed.

Don’t mess it up ichimatsu, they’re just coming to say hi.. that’s it.. it’s fine.. you’re fine!

As he turned around to look at you, he couldn’t help a blush go to his cheeks.

“Oh! Y/n! You’re here!” He said with a rather nervous smile, before getting even more red. “Well.. obviously you’re here.. you go to school here… with uh.. me…” he said, anxiously looking away from you for a moment.

Gripping the strap of his bag, looking back at you a lot more red. “I’ve been talking for too long” he said, more like whispered in all honesty.

You just looked at him, rather confused for a moment.

Thank god you were so oblivious.

“So…. Where’s your valentine?” You asked.

“Valentine! Right.. aha.. of course! Because I have a valentine!!” He said with a nervous grin. “They are… uhm…. Aha…” he struggled for a moment, before he eventually sighed. “L/n?”

You blinked at him, “eh? What is it?”

“There’s s-something I’ve been meaning to ask you..” he looked to the side, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wanted to do it in the best way but.. I didn’t know how and I wasted the entire day never asking you.. I’m sorry.. but uhm… do you wanna be my valentine? M-more than that.. my.. (boyfriend/girlfriend/partner)?”

His entire face was red by now as he looked to the ground, waiting for some kind of rejection.

You weren’t used to seeing him like this, but you were happy.. very happy.

“Yeah! Sure!” You said with a grin, and he shot his head up to look at you. “R-really!” “Yeah!” You nodded.

He was now grinning at this point too. “Okay!”

You grinned, but started to get a bit nervous. Itching at your arm, he was nervous too. What did couples do? What now?

He decided to be bold. And reached his hand out for you to grab, as to which you did.

As your hands intertwined, he couldn’t help but have his thumb gently rub circles on your knuckles. He felt so warm right now.

He was still really scared.

“Why is this still so nerve-wracking?!” You asked innocently, and it was then he noticed the blush on your cheeks. It only made him redder one the face.

“I… I don’t know…”

[flippyspoon]

Merry Christmas, King Steve

Note: I at least managed ONE Christmas ficlet. This goes right out to @inkedplume. CONFIDENT STEVE/BEARDED SOFT BILLS. MERRY CHRISTMAS, XI!

Billy resisted the urge to light a cigarette and instead took another sip of coffee before stroking the beard he’d grown for winter. His breath puffed in a little cloud of steam. 

It was cold as shit on Christmas Eve and there was no reason to be standing on the porch of Hop’s old trailer at ten in the morning, staring at the iced over lake. Except that he had to admit, the scene was breathtakingly beautiful. The trees were all blanketed in white, little icicles hanging from the trailer's eaves dripping above him. For once, he wasn’t cold. He was well bundled up. Long underwear, a t-shirt, a thermal, a flannel shirt, and the Susan had given him. Long underwear under his jeans. The scarf Mrs. Henderson had knitted for him. A thick wool hat. When he didn’t dress warmly enough, he shivered and shuddered and then either Max or Robin or even Steve lectured him about how he had to keep warm and stay healthy.

He couldn’t take it from Steve.

He couldn’t take anything from Steve these days.

King Steve was back, if he had ever gone away. He always greeted Billy with a sure grin.

“Hey there, Tiger.” Then Steve would wink and Billy would inwardly collapse.

Tiger. 

Steve called him Tiger.

Sometimes he called Billy “Blondie.”

The first time Steve had come out with one of those affectionate little nicknames, Billy had turned crimson and retreated into his hoodie. 

Steve flirted, winked, brought Billy warm brownies he made himself, made sure Billy was going to his doctor’s appointments, and took him out to lunch. He took Billy to the movies with Robin. He gave Billy free rentals.

They were friends. Good friends. But Billy felt like he was being...courted. 

Normally, he would have complained...

“What am I? A goddamn maiden faire? Christ, Harrington.” He might have said that a year ago.

Now he couldn’t think of anything to say at all.

He didn’t want it to stop.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Steve had said to him a few weeks ago, leaning too close for Billy to think clearly as they smoked behind the video store in the snow. “I know you’re not ready yet. For you and me? It’s okay. I’ll wait as long as you need. I promise. Just let me know, Blondie. I’ll come running.”

Wink.

That grin.

Billy had laid in bed thinking of nothing else every night ever since.

The thought of it had filled him with anxiety, dread, terror… Not really the things you wanted to feel around the guy you were madly in love with.

Then on December 23, he woke up and thought: Today.

He held on to the clarity of the thought and wrote a note and marched to Family Video early before his own shift at the library.

He walked into the video store and found Steve setting up his register for the day. 

Steve looked up at Billy and beamed. “Hey there, Tiger! Whatcha up to?”

Billy coughed and said, “I just uh...want to… Goddammit! Just take this!” He took the letter out of his pocket--a folded piece of paper ripped from one of his old notebooks--and slammed it down on the counter. The paper was slightly damp from the snow, but he was pretty sure it would still be legible.

Steve-

I’m ready. For you and me. Romance wise. If that’s still cool. Come over tomorrow morning if you got nothing better to do.

Later-

B

It wasn’t exactly an epic confession of love. It wasn’t remotely smooth. But it was something.

Billy spun on his heel before Steve could read the terrible note in front of him, and all but ran out the door.

“Later!” He hollered on his way out.

Steve had not called him to confirm that he was coming over, or to confirm that he hadn’t changed his mind about the whole romance thing, or to confirm that he’d even read the note.

Billy had not slept much.

He sipped coffee and kept his gaze on the iced over lake. It was kind of calming.

He liked the quiet of snow, even if the cold sucked.

“Hey, Blondie!”

Steve took him completely by surprise. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the ice, but he hadn’t heard Steve’s boots crunching through the snow and suddenly there Steve was, at the bottom of the few steps, happily squinting up at Billy. 

“Hey. Harrington.” Billy swallowed, struggling to maintain his composure.

Steve had actually come over!

He watched Steve climb the steps. He was carrying a paper bag.

Steve was wearing an expensive looking cream colored sweater. Billy guessed cashmere. He wore a forest green parka over it. His hair was perfect as usual. His cheeks were rosy and his lips red from the cold. 

Billy sighed.

“Hope it’s not too early.” Steve shrugged, looking deceptively sheepish. 

Billy didn’t buy that attitude for a second. Steve had walked around for months like he knew exactly what he wanted and just a few weeks ago Billy had learned that what Steve wanted most was Billy.

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the 80s.

“No,” Billy rasped. “It’s cool. Um… yeah. Good. I got nothing to do. Just thought it’d be cool to hang out. Whatever.”

“Mmmhmm.” Steve walked up to Bily who nodded to himself, opening the front door and letting them both into the toasty warm trailer. Steve barged in, crossed the room to the kitchen and set the bag on the counter. Billy hovered in the living room, leaning on the front door now shut behind him. “I bought some stuff. Thought you might be sick of my brownies. But Dustin’s mom won’t stop baking pies and I got cookies and a casserole? That one’s from my mom actually. She cooks a lot around Christmas. And I stole a really good brandy from my dad.”

Steve crossed back over to Billy and slipped off his parka, laying it over a chair like he did it everyday. Like he lived there.

He walked up to Billy and took the empty mug that Billy still clutched in his hands and set it on a table. “I was really happy to get that note,” Steve said softly. He looked Billy up and down like he was the Billy of 1984 and not the town freak 1985, a bearded weirdo in flannel who had come back from the dead and could barely speak to strangers and who had found a measure of bliss working at the library with Mrs. Edmund who smelled like tuna. “Are you okay?” Steve said.

Billy licked his lips and said, “I’m just fine, King Steve. How are you?”

Steve chuckled at that and then he took Billy’s sleeves and gently tugged him forward. “I’m excellent.” 

He kissed Billy firmly and Billy sighed into it and half fell into Steve who seemed happy to catch him before pushing Billy’s parka off his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. 

“God, that beard,” Steve whispered. He pecked Billy on the lips again and then nuzzled his cheek against Billy’s beard. “I like it.”

“Oh. Cool.” Billy thought that was what he said. He wasn’t sure. He felt a bit woozy. He spread his palms along Steve’s chest and the sensation of that firm, lean body under that infinitely soft sweater was overwhelming.

Steve kissed his chin, his cheek, his bottom lip…

“I want to unwrap you like a present,” Steve whispered. “And then I want that beard between my thighs. Is that cool?”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I wanted for Christmas,” Billy said.

Steve laughed into his neck. “I had a feeling. Merry Christmas, Tiger.”

“Merry Christmas, King Steve.”