#I did get invited to someone's Christmas Eve Party though which is cool and they gave me their number to make sure I have the info | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dynyamight · 3 years

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omgomg 11 for bkdk!!!!!

send me a writting ask

11. Both of you wore the same ugly Christmas sweater to a party

“I absolutely love it!” Ashido squeals in delight.

“I fucking hate it.” Bakugou growls, jaw clenched.

While Sero and Kaminari are hollering and wheezing on the floor, Kirishima gives a soft, supportive smile. “Look at you.” He says easily, “Now, you’re an actual star, Bakugou”

When he said he’s the fucking the star of their group, Bakugou did not mean it literally.

With arms spread awkwardly, Bakugou stood in the living room in the most gaudy green, Christmas sweater, fuzzy all over. There were faux garlands going across around his torso and arms, with red and yellow bells jingling from them. The muscles in his chest and arms that he once was so proud of, terribly helped to widen the entire tree look.

And, right on top of his head, Bakugou has his wildly blonde hair, tousled, spiked, and gelled by Ashido’s hands. It created to give an illusion that his own damn head, was the fucking star.

“I’m not going.” Bakugou relents firmly.

“No, no!” Ashido whines, hugging him around his back. “Please! You will totally win the ugly sweater contest at the party. And, you know we need that prize money!”

“You mean, you need that prize money, to help pay rent.” Kirishima deadpans.

Ashido pouts in his direction. “Me. We. Same thing.”

Sero heaves a tired laugh, wiping tears off his cheeks. “God, the way he’s just T-posing, without realizing.”

Bakugou raises a brow. “The hell does that mean?”

Kaminari cackles, still rolling on the carpet. “Nevermind that!” He barely voices between laughs, “His hair! His fucking hair!”

“Don’t mind those two.” Kirishima reassures Bakugou. He places a comforting hand onto his tense shoulders. “We’re all looking ridiculous.”

Which, true. Bakugou scans over his group of extras, finally taking in their dumbass outfits.

Kirishima was a red brick chimney, with Santa’s ass sticking out in front. Ashido had an oversized sweater, stating in bold letters, “FEEL THE JOY”, and silhouettes of hands on each boob. Sero wore Santa with obviously red eyes, hitting a blunt, and the words “GET LIT” in this nice cursive. And, Kaminari had red solo cups stuck to his sweater, a walking beer pong table, for fuck’s sake.

“We’re the absolute worst.” Bakugou snorts.

“I swear, if no one goes all out like us, I will feel personally attacked.” Ashido sighs, letting go of Bakugou. Instead, she looks over her phone. “I texted Jirou to remind her and her girlfriend to go big, or go home.”

Sero sputters in another fit of laughs. “M-Momo in an ugly Christmas sweater! N-No way!”

Kaminari snickers right alongside him. “Momo doesn’t even wear anything ugly to begin with!”

“Well, there’s a first for everything, tonight!” Kirishima laughs, shaking his head. “If Bakugou’s going out as a damn stumpy Christmas tree, so can she.”

“I’m fucking stumpy?” Bakugou asks. That’s not-

“Okay, chop, chop!” Ashido claps to the group in the apartment, speed walking in her knee high boots to the door. “To the party, we go, everyone!”

On the cramped car ride, Bakugou tunes out the atrocious caroling of his friends, blasting Kaminari’s Christmas classics playlist. There’s a long night awaiting him, and he’s borderline doubting he can survive.

He usually doesn’t go to these late night, drunken parties. That’s more of, well, everyone else’s thing.

Bakugou would prefer to spend Christmas Eve by his quiet self, avoiding anything Christmas related, in fact. Just a day off work, cooking a nice, warm meal and watching his favorite horror movies under a heated kotatsu.

Alas, his friends begged him to attend this ridiculous Christmas party, instead, hosted by the damn, annoying Aoyama, of all people. Though, he is surprised the guy had the gall to extend an invite his way.

And, yeah, maybe he hasn't gone out in awhile, and actually was willing to show up.

So, here he is. Bakugou Katsuki, readying himself in a small ass car to get egg-nogged-wasted for the Christmas cheer, or whatever they say.

Besides, Kirishima offered to give a ride back home, if two hours into the party he still wasn’t feeling it. That’s his best friend, for fucking sure.

After passing the gates, the car rolled through the private community and pulled up to Aoyama’s residency, shortly after. There wasn’t any parking in front of the house, heavily decorated with lights, inflatables, and a fucking snow machine.

“We need a group photo with that!” Kaminari exclaims in the backseat, face smushing the window. From the passenger seat, Ashido agrees excitedly.

So, Kirishima had to move up a few houses down, in order to find an available spot for his car. The walk was a bit bothersome, the nipping cold, winter air bites at everyone’s faces and noses. But then, Sero yells for a race down to the front doors, undoubtedly to help the group warm up.

Bakugou won’t lie, he totally ran out of breath to those damn doors.

They all waited patiently for Ashido, last and stumbling in her heels hurriedly. It takes Kirishima walking back, and ushering her with his arm, so she can rush over safely.

“Gross, they’re actually cute together.” Kaminari sticks his tongue. Sero and Bakugou roll their eyes.

When Aoyama greets them, he blasts the whole group with a confetti popper. “Merry Christmas! Happy Hannakuh! Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Holidays!” He sings aloud. He shakes his whole body, ringing the bunches of bells that are all over him.

Bakugou feels a headache forming.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Sero corrects, right beside him.

“Ah, well, tonight, it’s all the holidays combined!” Aoyama laughs, “Now, get inside! The heater’s blasted on, of course.”

And, hell, at least the damn heater’s nice.

Bakugou eyes all over the entrance way, pictures of Aoyama and his family plastered over the walls, with large garlands hanging between them.

The loud commotion of the party echoes from the living room, to his left.

“Here, we brought some drinks!” Ashido gingerly proclaims, with both her and Kaminari handing over the bottles of whiskey to Aoyama. “The essentials, duh!”

“Please! You even got my favorite brand!” Aoyama gasps.

Kirishima coughs over Bakugou's ears. “Yeah, that shit was expensive.” He whispers.

“It ain’t even that good.” Bakugou hisses back.

They both smirk at each other, before letting out airy laughs.

Bakugou lets the rest of his group go in front of him, before stepping over to the living room. Seated and standing throughout, different, unfamiliar faces were gathered together. Groups had already formed; a dancing and twirling circle, a card game circle, a conversation only circle, a drinking circle, and even a circle surrounding the tall Christmas tree at the corner of the room.

It doesn’t take long for the group to split.

Aoyama pulls Ashido towards the rest of the girls, huddled around the fireplace, sipping on hot mugs of chocolate. Kaminari hurries to his tired eyed, purple friend, Sero jogs towards Sato and Tokoyami, and Kirishima is surprised (read: jumped) by Testutetsu and his friends.

Which left Bakugou still standing by the entrance.

He slowly trudges his way around the living room, eavesdropping on the different conversations, in order to see if that’s the circle he wants to join.

But, even after overhearing and eying at the last circle, Bakugou decides he doesn’t want to join any.

Kirishima better uphold his damn promise. Cause, this shit is boring as hell.

He doesn’t know what compels him to do it, but Bakugou decides to grab a drink off the long table of assorted drinks and finger food, and simply sit on one of the couches. Oddly enough, no one was seated over to where he was looking.

Taking a red solo cup of who knows what, Bakugou starts walking around the crowd, and hurries to the open couch.

And, just his luck, he bumps into someone right as he tries to sit down.

Luckily, neither his drink, nor the other person’s, spill. But, as Bakugou looks over to his right, ready to offer a curt apology, he halts.

Staring back at him, was a damn idiot, in the same ugly Christmas sweater as him. And, on top of his head, he wore a springy star, jumping in the air.

“O-Oh, sorry.” The freckled stranger voices, woobly smiling. “But, I think one of us has to change.”

“You need to change.” Bakugou states firmly, settling down close to the armrest of the couch.

The grinning guy seats himself next to him, thighs pressing together. “Well, I arrived here first. So,” He shrugs teasingly, “If anyone’s changing, it’s you.”

Bakugou huffs, taking a sip of the beverage in his hand and trying to avoid any further conversation.

And, instantly, he almost spits that shit out.

“What the hell?!” He blurts. The sweet, sugary flavor of the obvious vodka-mix coats all over his mouth.

“Yeah, I took a sip, and that drink is a little too sweet for me, too.” The stranger chuckles, shaking his head.

“Who fucking brought this?”

Bakugou hears the stranger hum. “If I had to guess, it was probably that Ashido I spoke with a while ago.”

“Hell nah.” Bakugou defends quickly. “We came together. I would know.”

“Really?” The stranger’s face lights up, in recognition. “Wait, are you perhaps her boyfriend?” He asks excitedly. “She did say he's the most attractive person in the room.”

Bakugou snorts. “Hell nah. I would never.” He throws a nonchalant toss of his head over Kirishima's direction, where he was talking to a group of other guys. “Her ‘attractive’ boyfriend would be Shitty Hair, over there.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Bakugou notices he fumbles with his own red solo cup, in between his scarred hands. “I— There’s just so many people here, I only know a few.”

“I don’t know anyone else, other than my close four.” Bakugou clicks his tongue, “Fuck, I guess close five. Jirou and I are cool.”

“Well, you definitely know more than me.” The guy chuckles, “I just know Aoyama and Ochako.”

“The hell? Then, why did you show up?”

“Designated driver.”

“..Fucking lame.”

The guy laughs out loud, and Bakugou enjoys the genuine mirth that slips through his lips. “I really was hoping my luck would help me meet people! But, uh, I guess it’s been a freaking lame night.”

Begrudgingly, not wanting to get up and grab a different drink, Bakugou willingly swallows down a gulp of Pepto Bismol. He lets out a quick cough. “Well, you met me.”

“..That is true.” He smiles back. “Pretty good luck I have, huh?”

“Bad luck.” Bakugou huffs, “It’s bad luck.”

“Oh really? Then,” The guy points at Bakugou. “Is your name Kyuu?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but is unable to hold back his laugh. “I’m not literal bad luck, dumbass.”

“Then you’re not so bad! I bet your name isn’t even that bad, either. Nothing is as bad as-”

“Bakugou.”

“Hm?”

Taking another sip, Bakugou looks back at those evergreen eyes. “My name.”

Those freckles scattered over his cheeks are covered by the red flush that slowly floods him. “Ah, m-my name’s Midoriya. Hi.”

“Hey.” Bakugou lifts his cup up. “Happy Holidays, or whatever.”

Midoriya smiles softly, before clinking his cup together with Bakugou’s. “Happy Holidays, or whatever. From one ugly Christmas tree to another.”

“Which, you seriously need to fucking change.” Bakugou reminds in fein resolve.

With a small push on his shoulders, Midoriya giggles, raising a quip brow. “Don’t start demanding, when your hair’s looking like that.”

"The fuck's wrong with my hair?"

"Everything."

Bakugou barks a laugh. "You got some fucking nerve. With your stupid dangly star."

"Perhaps, you could say our stars aligned, tonight." Midoriya shakes his head, blushing once more. He looks away. "Ah, sorry. That sounded way cooler in my head. Forget I said that."

Fuck. Fucking shit.

Bakugou blames it all on the Christmas energy, contagious and destroying him from the inside.

He blames the damn Mariah Carey that’s uplifting his own damn stubborn spirits.

He blames the smell of Gingerbread and Cinnamon, wafting in the air, and the toasty, cozy heat that wraps around him, snug.

Because, now his heart’s melting, over this damn idiot in the same ugly Christmas sweater as him.

#star responds #YOU SAID YOU LOVE CHRISTMAS?? I LOVE CHRISTMAS #anyways i was SO CLOSE to adding a mistletoe to this but i decided not to #midoriya would combust to flames & bakugou would hate to have their first kiss in front of people he didn't even like #anyways thank you so so so so much for this!!#it’s literally august & i’m out here spreading Christmas cheer #bakudeku #bkdk #fi-nn #FICLET

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impala666 · 3 years

Text

The One With The Monkey Part Two: Lovers Quarrel

Joey and the reader have their first argument, sort of.

Friends rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (Part One)

“Come sit here, Marcel.” Ross said as he helped Rachel put hooks on ornaments. But as soon as Marcel got one of his little hands on Ross’s lap he just immediately jumped off and ran in the other direction toward the kitchen.

“Pheebs, I can’t believe he hasn’t kissed you yet.” Rachel mentioned after Phoebe told you guys about the multiple time the two of them had gone out, but was still waiting for David to kiss her. “I mean, God, by my sixth date with Paolo he’d already named both of my breasts.” She chuckled at the memory as she handed you the now hooked ornament so that you could hang the ornament on the tree. All of us stopped and just stared at her from the unwanted information that she let slip out.

“I agree with Rach, Pheebs. The first time Joey kissed me it was practically the morning after I moved in.” You yourself couldn’t help smile while looking back on the memory.

“It was that fast?” Chandler asked you, as he looked with astonishment on his face. He clearly was not happy at the fact that you, his sister, and his best friend had moved on to something that quickly.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “I mean I know that it started fast, and we’re still kind of going fast. But what can I say, he’s the best I’ve ever had.” Chandler’s face turned even more stonish and unhappy while everyone else again stopped what they were doing to now look at you with the same upset faces that they had given Rachel. “Woah, did I just share too much?” You asked, noticing how uncomfortable they were by how this conversation was going.

“Just a smidge.” Ross shrugged sarcastically as he got up from his seat on the coffee table.

“David’s like, you know, a scientist guy. He’s very methodical.” Phoebe explained her guy the best that she could to the both of you, so that you understood what she was dealing with. Because everyone knew that both Paolo and Joey, especially, were the most sex crazy that any of you had ever met.

“I think it’s romantic.” Monica smiled over at Phoebe.

“Me too,” Phoebe gushed, taking a seat on the couch. “Did you ever see An Officer and A Gentlemen?” Phoebe asked which all of you nodded. “Well, he’s kind of like the guy I went to see that with, except he’s smarter and gentler and sweeter. I just, I just want to be with him all the time.” You smiled so much at how happy Phoebe was, it seemed that she really liked David and she really deserved that. “You know, day and night, and night and day, and special occasions.” Phoebe hinted at that she wanted to invite David to what was supposed the singles only New Years Eve party.

“Wait a minute, I see where this is going. You’re going to invite him to New Years, aren’t you? You’re going to break the pact. She’s going to break the pact!” Chandler caught on. But you thought that this New Years pact was ridiculous anyway because you and Joey were going to be there and obviously neither of you were single. But everyone seemed to be on Chandler’s side here.

“No, no, no,” she tried to reassure everyone, but she couldn’t hide it anymore. “Yeah, could I just?” Phoebe asked as she moved up to sit on her knees.

“Yeah, ‘cause I already asked Janice.” Chandler announced.

“Ha, I knew you would break.” You pointed at him, you knew it would be a matter of time until he decided to find a date.

“Come on. This was a pact. This was your pact.” Ross pointed out the obvious to Chandler.

“I snapped okay? I couldn’t handle the pressure and I snapped.” He tried to explain himself in the best way possible.

“But Janice? That was, like, the worst breakup in history.” Clearly none of you were going to let it go that Chandler, the one who made this very important pact, was in fact the one breaking it. What made it worse was that he was bringing someone that he despised.

“I’m not saying it was a good idea. I’m saying I snapped.” Which was clearly all he was going to say about it because he walked away with his hands on his hips.

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” Joey announced running into the room with the sound of bells following him. But once he took off his coat, it was like you couldn’t stop staring. He was dressed head to toe in an elf costume, he even had the curled toed shoes to match it.

“Oh, my God.” You chuckled out of your mouth as you brought your hands to cover your mouth still too surprised and shocked to look anywhere else. But you weren’t alone in the laughing at his clothes part.

“Too many jokes.” Chandler looked like he was about explode from all of the comments that were coming to him at rapid fire. He put his fingers to his temples trying to stop his head from hurting. “Must mock Joey.” After Joey gestured to his outfit waiting for everyone to make fun of him, he couldn’t help but notice the look that changed on your face.

“ Nice shoes, huh?” He was landing a helping hand to Chandler as he wiggled the elf shoes.

“Ah! You’re killing me!” Chandler ran away not being able to take it anymore.

“What?” Joey asked when all you were doing was staring at him, and his smile grew because he could easily read your face. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“I don’t know why this is working for me.” You said and clearly everyone could hear you when they groaned in disgust. “But it is.” Joey smiled walking over to you, and you flicked one of the bells that was his costume while he leaned down to give you a very heated and much needed kiss. A few clangs from the kitchen made you both look over to see Marcel messing with Monica’s kitchen tools.

“Ross, he’s playing with my spatulas again!” Monica cried. “Do you always have to bring him here?” Monica asked him as he followed his angry sister into the kitchen so that he could defend his monkey.

“Look, I didn’t want to leave him alone, all right? We had our first fight this morning.” Ross tried to explain, but the situation just sounded weird. “I think it has to do with me working late. I said some things that I didn’t mean and he threw some feces.” Ross flinched from remembering it.

“You know, if you’re working late. I can look in on him for you.” Chandler offered him the helping hand.

“Oh, that’d be great! Okay, but if you do, make sure it seems like you’re there to see him, okay? And you’re not, like, doing it as a favor to me.” Why was Ross treating this like Marcel was a small child?

“Okay, but if he asks, I’m not going to lie.” Chandler mocked.

“So am I wearing the elf tonight?” Joey whispered into your ear. You knew him, if Chandler was going to be out during the night he would use that opportunity to get you alone, not like it really ever stopped him before though.

“Oh, you are definitely wearing the elf tonight.” You bit your bottom lip, but trying to be discreet so you didn’t gross anybody out.

***********

You had decided to call off of work because you had some shopping at the mall, and if you had to be honest you wanted to see Joey in his elf costume at work. So even though you felt a little weird waiting in a line with children that were eagerly waiting to see Santa, you just wanted to surprise your boyfriend. When the moms in front of you and behind you gave you weird looks, you just felt the need to explain yourself. “I’m just visiting my boyfriend, he’s an elf here, okay? Geez,” why did people always find it necessary to poke their noses into other peoples business? Finally the people in front of you were escorted to Santa, which would make it your turn to be escorted by your happy helper. “Can I escort your child to Santa?” Joey came up and asked, but he immediately smiled when he looked up and saw it was you.

“Oof, I hope not. Otherwise that would make this visit super awkward.” You smiled at him, taking a once over of his costume again. Joey smiled at your joke before leaning forward to peck your lips to which many kids behind you “ewed” at, but you didn’t care.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you had to work?” Joey and you moved out of the way so that another of Santa’s helpers could take the kids to Santa’s lap and keep the line going.

“I did, but I decided to call off. I had some last minute Christmas shopping I had to do, I toured a school that I really liked, but it was for an esthetician program which is still cool. Plus I needed to find a new outfit for Monica and Rachel’s New Years party.

“Oh yeah? Anything I’d like? I mean I had the elf costume for you, I think it's your turn,” Joey smiled.

“Hmm, I think that’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You joked back at him. “When do you get off?”

“About five minutes, wanna wait for me and we’ll go home together?” He asked.

“Sure, I’ll get some coffee and wait in the cafeteria for you. Get back to work you little helper!” You yelled to him as you walked towards a coffee stand.

You had been sitting at a table with a paper coffee cup and getting lost in your thoughts and you couldn’t help but think about your relationship with Joey. It was great and all and you loved him a lot, but there was just something that you couldn't shake off that Chandler said to you earlier. He mentioned how fast you and Joey seemed to be taking things and you couldn’t help but notice that he was kind of right. “Y/N/N?” Joey said your name for what felt to be the tenth time. After he had gotten off of work, Joey had gone back to get his coat and stuff and when he went to find you he caught you staring off into space with your thinking face on.

“Oh, hey. Sorry,” you smiled shyly up at him. “Are you ready to go?” You were about to get up from your seat, but Joey touched your shoulder so that you’d look him in the eye. You were worrying him and he just wanted to see if you’re okay.

“Are you okay?” Joey asked as he bent down to pick up your shopping bags which you smiled at him in thanks for.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You smiled as you stood up and both of you made your way home.

********

“Okay, you aren’t okay. You were quiet the whole way home, which is not you.” Joey announced suddenly as you both walked into your apartment to see Chandler sitting on one of the bar stools, eating a box of cereal and reading the back of the box.

“I told you I was just thinking.” Was all you said.

“What’s going on here? First lovers quarrel?” Chandler smirked trying to be funny.

“Noo.” You told him with a straight face. He held his hands up in surrender clearly not believing you.

“Then tell me what’s going on.” Joey said with a little bit of frustration in his voice.

“Okay, I’m just gonna take this.” Chandler said, smiling at the both of you as he grabbed his bowl of cereal and walked quickly to the door so he could escape the weird tension that was going on between the two of you and just decided to go across the hall.

“So?” Joey asked.

“I’m just scared that we’re moving too fast.” You crossed your arms over your chest, not really being one for confrontation. “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“What makes you ask that?” Joey looked confused as well as scared that you were going to break up with him.

“Don’t worry I’m not breaking up with you, you can’t get rid of me that easy.” You smirked when he let out a sigh of relief. “It’s just that when Chandler found out about our first kiss, he seemed weirded out at how fast it started.”

“So you're worried about what he said?” Joey pointed his thumb in the direction your brother went.

“No, I just mean that I was fine with how fast we went because I love you and I wanted it too. But then I thought about it and we started dating literally the next day after moving here and moving in with you guys, and then I sleep in your room pretty much all the time now.”

“Why are you freaking out? You wanted to not sleep on the couch.” Joey pointed out, making it harder to get your point across.

“It’s just we’ve only been on a couple dates and it’s like we already live together. That’s not, like weird or freaky to you?” You looked up at him with scared puppy dog eyes, and Joey couldn’t help but smile a little when he realized what was going on. “What?” You asked when he smiled and just wrapped his arms around you and brought you into his chest for a bear hug.

“You two are so related. Who knew that these kinds of issues was a family thing.” He chuckled even harder when you looked up at him in the hug with a glare on your face. “I get that it’s a little fast, but yeah we do live together because you're living with your brother and we happened to start this whole thing and you just moved to the city a few months ago. So we’ll go a little slower, as slow as you need. I’ll even let you sleep on the couch.” He wrapped his arms tighter around you and kissed your temple. “But I swear, it’s all gonna be fine.”

“I love you,” you voiced while you were muffled by his shirt.

“I love you, too.” Joey smiled warmly as he just rubbed your back.

#friends #friends rewrite #Joey Tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #bing!reader #sister!bing #monica geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay #chandler bing #ross geller

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write-orflight · 4 years

Text

Trouble: Chapter 2

*Gif not mine*

Pairings: HotchxReader

Prologue Chapter 1

Rating: M

Words: 3K

Warnings: Basic witch stuff, angst, mentions of child birth, mentions of near death

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: After Haley’s passing, Aaron Hotchner has lost the light in his eyes. He seems to find it it the most unlikely of places, an occult themed coffee shop ran by a witch.

A.N: Tarot, wicca, and crystal information is very secondhand if you see any inaccuracies, no you don’t. If you are a witch tho and want to help and be nice to me enter my ask box please, I’m annoying my friend too much.

Chapter 2: God, don't let me lose my mind

The deeper into autumn you got the more busy the shop was.

Halloween was a big money grabber for your shop. People loved to come to the shop around that time because your shop offered such ‘spooky’ feel, as the hipster who came in that morning would say. You hated that. Halloween was one of your favorite holidays simply because the veil between the natural and supernatural was so thin it was the best time for spells and charms but what you didn’t like was people and baby witches asking you about certain spells or how to commune with spirits just so they can do something “extra spooky” for whatever parties they were having for the season. Consultations were such easy money though so you’d never turn them away but your answer was always the same, that Spirits are not toys and that if they are going to invite them it better be serious and for the right intentions otherwise they might not leave.

Despite it being your favorite season, It didn’t make you less annoyed.

“If I have to make another Pumpkin flavored whatever and tell a sorority girl not to invoke a demon in her house, I’m going to scream.” Silena says to you as you enter the shop, Artemis in tow. Your sitter had to take an exam so you had to watch her for the first 2 hours of your shift. Artie, knowing the drill by now, tries to crawl up to the bar stool. You watch her for a second, smiling her little legs before taking pity on her and hoisting her up. She immediately pulls a coloring book and crayons out her bag, before working diligently in silence. You kiss her temple before walking behind the counter, tying your apron on.

“You had another consultation today?” You asked.

“Pfft, it wasn’t even that. She asked me while ordering her coffee, though I should’ve charged her for that dumbass question.” You look at her pointed, nodding your head towards your child who repeats everything. Silly winces “Sorry, but still. If this is how halloween is going to be, you’re probably going to have to do some balancing spells.”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly what I need, more work.”

“What’s a dumbass?” Artie pipes up from her perch on the stool.

“Something you are not and shouldn’t repeat unless you want your mom mad at me.” Silly says, reaching across the counter to ruffle her hair.

The doorbell of the shop rings and the very man who’s occupied your mind these past couple of months steps in. Aaron Hotchner was one of your favorite customers despite not talking very much, he’d make small talk while you made his order which you found yourself doing slower than it would normally take you, just to get a little bit more of his time, he’d leave a tip in the jar and be on his way always leaving you with a small smile that you always immediately returned with a wide one. You tried to stop yourself from getting attached but here you were, an adult woman who had a crush on a customer who probably didn’t think about you when he left the shop.

You’d never seen him on a weekend though and frankly you didn’t know if you could handle seeing him like this again, he wore dark blue jeans, a black belt and a black t-shirt that fit a little too well over his broad chest you couldn’t help but staring at his arms that you’d never seen on display like this. You knew for a fact(well you hoped at least) he’d have no issue picking you up or pinning you down.

Now’s not the time, y/n… you think.

“Hey, you.” You greet, flirtatiously. You’ve been trying not to flirt with him, you really were but sometimes you couldn’t help it. It was your personality. “Didn’t think I’d see you in here. On a weekend, no less.”

“Yea, decided to stop for coffee before heading to my sister in law’s. Can I have my usual and an Americano for her?” He asks

“You got it.” You wink before starting to work. Silly gives you a knowing look which you brush off. Hotch takes a seat at the bar a few seats away from your daughter who looks up at him.

“Hi!” She says excitedly. “I’m Artie.”

“Hi Artie, I’m Aaron.” He looks around. “Are your parents around?” You look up. You’d forgotten to mention you had a kid to Hotch, which would probably explain his confusion of a random child sitting alone.

“My mama’s right there, silly.” She laughs. “Mama?” She says you look up automatically from the milk you’re frothing.

“Yes, bean?” You say.

“Can I have a brownie?”

“Well, I don’t know. Did you finish the addition tables I asked you to do?” She shakes her head at you. “Well, how about you do that then we’ll see if it’s brownie time, deal?” She nods, fast while pulling her math homework out of her bag. Hotch watches the interaction confused but with a slight smile.

“I didn’t know you had a kid.” He says

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Gus.” You say, calling him by the nickname you affectionately gave him your first meeting. “But yes I do, that’s Artemis.”

He nods, knowingly. “How old?”

“Well, I don’t know. How old are you, bean?” You say.

“I’m six!” She says, holding up 5 fingers, you grab her other hand to extend her other index finger too so the number was actually 6.

“Really? You’re not 16 yet?” Silly asks, ruffling her hair. “I thought you were driving us home tonight?”

Artie shakes her head. “Mama says I can’t drive yet.”

“Between you and me kid, your mama shouldn’t be on the road either.” You swat at her.

Aaron gives a small chuckle at the display in front of him. But he has to ask the burning question in his head. “Her dad—“

“Not in the picture.” You cut off. “Like not even in the same gallery.”

Hotch nods understandably as you put his drinks in the carrier for him. He looks at you confused when you add a 3rd cup.

“Hot chocolate.” You say. “For your son. I imagine that’s where you’re going. To pick him up from your sister?”

“How did you know I had a son?” He asks.

“Oh, I just used one of my witchy spells to find out information on you.” You say jokingly, but he looks at you with mild horror. “I’m kidding, Spencer told me.”

He nods. “Thank you, y/n.”

“No problem, come back to see me?”

“Always.” He says, offering you a small secret smile before leaving. You can’t help the dreamy look you give his retreating back.

“Are you coming back to earth anytime soon?” Sil says, shaking her head. “You got it bad, kid.”

“Pfft, no I don’t.” You say turning to clean up the mess you just made.

“I don’t understand why you just won’t ask him out.”

“He’s healing, Sil.” You say, shrugging. “And I don’t want to push him into something he’s obviously not ready for.”

Not to mention you also didn’t think you were ready for it.

———————————————

On Halloween day, you get a visit from one of your favorite customers

“Pennywise!” You say to chipper blonde women who strolled in she was wearing a orange and black dress with little jack-O-lantern earrings that you had gotten her the beginning of month. You move your hair back to show her the Ouija board pointer earrings she had gotten you in return. Penelope Garcia couldn’t just accept a gift without giving one in return.

“Hey Y/N, how are you this ole hallow’s eve?”

“It’s Halloween and a full moon tonight.” You say excitedly. “It’s like witch Christmas.”

“I don’t know about that but I am happy for you. Can I have a pumpkin spice latte and since I’m such a good friend an Americano with extra sugar for the good doctor?” She asks.

“You got it, Pen.” You say before starting her order. “Heading into work now?”

“Sure am! Hopefully there’s not a gruesome murder so I’ll be able to spend my Halloween having fun.” Penelope says. “You got any plans?”

“Other than taking Artie Trick or Treating and charging some crystals in the full moon, no.”

“Come on, no wild parties? no hexing beautiful men into falling in love with you?” Penny asks. You laugh loudly, shaking your head. “Man, maybe the life of a witch was more exciting in my head.”

“Yea, you did.” You laugh. “I’m basically just a cool rock collector plus love spells, so not my thing.”

“So there’s such a thing?”

“Yea there’s love spells. I don’t believe in using them. I think love itself is it’s own powerful being. It shouldn’t be manipulated with, if someone was meant to love me they would.”

“Speaking of love and love spells…” Silena pipes up from the display case she was loading pastries she just made into. “Penelope, how’s your boss?” You glare over at her.

“Hotch?” Penny asks looking between the two of you before smirking at you. “Why do you want to know?”

“I don’t.” You say at the same time as Silena says. “She has a Texas sized crush on him.”

Garcia practically squeals at that. “Let me set you up please.”

“No, Penny.” You say, immediately

“Why not?” Her and Silly say at the same time.

“Because… I don’t know didn’t his wife just die months ago, it’s hardly appropriate for me to try swoop in.”

“Ex-wife. They were already long divorced before she died.” Penelope adds

“Still! It’s not appropriate.” You say.

“So what? You’re just going to keep making him free coffee until he realizes you're into him?”

“Yup” you say adding the 3rd cup to Garcia’s carrier. “Give that to Grumpy for me please.” Garcia opens her mouth to say something but you just hold up your hand cutting her off

“Fine.” She says, grabbing the carrier. “Only because I have to go to work though, this conversation isn’t over.”

“Yes it is.” You call after her.

——————————————

You were back in the shop. Artie was tuckered out after a long night of trick or treating and crashing from her sugar high so you decided to charge some of your crystals and do some balancing spells, knowing for a fact a lot of teenagers did stupid shit to upset the balance.

As you were lighting the candles and incense, you heard a knock at the door. You were long closed so who could possibly need something right now? You look out the window and Aaron is standing there. You’re confused but you let him in anyway.

“Hey Grumpy, what’re you doing here?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were closed, I guess I’ve never been here at night. I’ll go. I'm sorry for bothering you.” He says turns to go but you grab his arm to stop him.

“Gus… it’s almost midnight, no business is open. You’re here because there’s obviously something upsetting you so I’m not just going to let you leave.” You all but push him into barstool. “Now like I said it’s almost midnight so there is something important I need to do so if you’ll sit tight for like 2 minutes, I’ll make us coffee.”

Hotch obliges, sitting silently watching you as you lit some candles on the altar you kept in the shop. You placed the honey cake you had made earlier in the day on the altar before whispering.

“Thank you to the patron, Artemis, Great goddess of Moon and Magic. Mistress of deer and owl. Be thou my guide and Inspiration. Teach me Thy mysteries and lead me in thy ways.” You stand and turn back to Hotch who is watching you intensely. “Sorry about that, midnight is her favorite time. Coffee?” You ask, He nods as you move behind the counter.

“Can I ask what it is you just did?” Hotch ask.

“That?” He nods. “It’s a full moon so since Artemis is my patron goddess, it’s best to leave a sacrifice to stay in her favor.” You shrug. He looks at you like you're crazy but you're used to that look. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s no different then some catholic practices. In fact, Christians often stole from pagan practices, and only one is just considered ‘taboo’ now.”

“Is that why you named your child Artemis, because she’s your Patron?” He asks.

“Actually, Artemis is my Patron because of Artie.” You say, he looks at you as if asking you to continue. “I wasn’t always like this.” You say gesturing to yourself and the shop. “My parents are pastors and for a long time I was this faith devout christian girl. But I got pregnant out of wedlock, my parents disowned me and I was looking for something to turn to. I met Silena and she introduced me to Wicca, and said whoever my Patron was through meditation and study, They’ll reveal themselves to me. So I went months, meditating daily, and still nothing was working. Then I went into labor, and everything was going wrong. I thought, this was my punishment from god for not only getting pregnant without marriage but turning to witchcraft. I had to have an emergency C-section. And when I was on the operating table, I almost died, Artie almost died. I started to see these images of deer and boar running through the forest. And finally when I came back to, and I could hear my baby crying, the first thing I saw when my eyes opened was the full moon out the window.” You sigh, sliding a cup to Hotch before moving from behind the counter to take a seat next to him. “That’s when I realized the goddess had saved me and my child. And while Artemis prefers virgin patronage, and that ship had long sailed past back then. I figured naming my child after her was the next best thing.”

“That’s a beautiful story, Y/N.” He says, looking at you sincerely.

“Thank you, and since you’re not running for the hills, why don’t you tell me why you really knocked at my door at midnight.”

“It’s just…” He starts, clearing his throat. “Tonight was the first ‘major’ holiday without Haley. And I tried to take Jack’s mind off it, make it fun but it was like this looming weight above us. That it wasn’t the same without her and that it never would be. And I was upset and just wanted to take a walk but I guess my feet carried me here.” He shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you’re here grumpy. And you’re healing you need to give yourself time--”

“I don’t have time!” He snaps. You flinch back a bit, having never heard his raised voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just-I don’t have time to heal. I have to be there for Jack.”

“Who’s there for you, Aaron?” You ask. He looks at you confused. You hardly ever call him by his name. It's either grumpy or gus or a combination of the two. Never by his actual name, he hated how much he liked how it sounded coming from your lips. “Do you know what a rock tumbler is?” you ask, he shakes his head confused where you’re going with this. You run behind the counter to retrieve the box you had dug through the very first night you met.

“Well a rock tumbler is a device you put rocks into. Rocks that have eroded, rocks that have trekked the earth, rocks that have been to hell and back. And what you do is you put them in this device with a little bit of water and you wait. Days, weeks, months all the while this device is just spinning, you don’t see what’s happening on the inside but after a while, when the time is right, you get these beautiful lustrous stones.” You say, showing him the box. “Healing is the same way, others don’t see you working. But in the end, they’ll see the result. And you’ll feel the result too. But if you don’t take that step you don’t end up with gems like these. You just end up with an eroded dingy rock.” You look up at Hotch and he’s tearing up slightly. Your heart melts. “Do you want a hug?” you say.

“You don’t have to--”

You cut him off. “No one on earth gives hugs because they have to. I want to give you a hug if you want one. So do you want a hug?”

He nods, fastly. So you stand, he follows suit and allows you to pull him down into a full embrace. Your arms around his neck and shoulders, he envelopes you fully into his torso, arms tight around your waist. You sigh, content. Before shaking yourself out of it. This wasn’t about you. No matter how right it felt.

After a minute or so you break apart. You look him in the eyes and he’s staring back at you in what feels like admiration. You clear your throat. “Can I give you something?” you ask.

“Is it another crystal?” He asked back.

“Yes, it is.” You rummage through the box before pulling out the one you needed. “This is Aragonite, it’s good for healing old wounds and building emotional strength. Now I can gift you this but you have to activate it yourself. Even if you don’t believe it, I feel like it’s good words to hear yourself say anyway.” You grab his left hand, sliding the crystal into it. He looks into your eyes. “Now say, I release past wounds and embrace resilience.”

Hotch sighs. “I release past wounds and embrace resilience.” He then slides the stone in his pocket. Before grabbing your hand again. “Thank you, Y/N”

“Anytime, Grumpy.” You say.

Taglist: @megatrexus @roses-and-grasses @tittymuncher69 @liaabsurd @ladyravenclaw @genevievedarcygrangerreading @softbibxtch @xxdisappearwithoutatracexx

#hotch x reader smut #bau x reader #hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #criminal minds

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

Could you do #40 cancelled holiday party? Thank you!

40. i just found out that a friend of a friend of a friend isn’t hosting their annual holiday party this year, so now how am i going to have my annual run in with you?

from winter writing prompts here

happy xmas eve, if you celebrate it!

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

Newt doesn’t really have many friends, and certainly not enough to warrant a flood of party invitations come December, but for the past few years he’s been able to rely pretty consistently on at least one. Back when the band was still together, his drummer had a pretty cool girlfriend who would sometimes let them tag along as the entertainment for parties around town, and her brother (who was almost as cool as her) ended up liking the way they sounded so much he invited them back to his own parties a couple times. Then he dated Newt’s guitarist, and then he broke up with Newt’s guitarist, and then he dated Newt, and then he broke up with Newt, and it sort of fell apart from there (and so did the band), but the breakup was actually pretty amicable, and he’s never failed to extend the invitation to Newt for his annual holiday bash as a courtesy. And Newt’s never failed to make an appearance. What’s there not to like, you know? It’s free booze, free food, and the chance to not feel like a total loser loner for once. Plus…well. Another reason.

But this year isn’t looking too good for Newt.

“Sick?” Newt says. “What do you mean he’s sick?”

“I mean,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, irritably, “he’s sick. Caught the flu or something. I don’t know, Jackie just wanted me to call and tell you, she didn’t give me any details.”

“Couldn’t he have called me himself?” Newt says.

“No,” Newt’s ex-drummer says, “I told you, he has the flu, he’s totally out of it, man. Party’s off this year. Hey, did you get our Christmas card?”

“What? Oh. Yeah,” Newt sighs. He tacked it up on his fridge: the two women with their arms around each other, one pink-haired, one blue-haired, holding up their cat in the middle like it was their son or something. Clever. Quirky. Newt just makes a generic Tweet mid-December wishing everyone a happy holiday season and calls it a success—less effort. “Yeah, it was cute. It’s definitely cancelled? He can’t just, I don’t know, take some Advil or something and—”

“Newt,” she says.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Newt says. “Tell Jackie to tell him to—get well soon? Soon enough for New Year’s, maybe? Because it would be great if—”

She hangs up on him. Newt probably deserved it.

He stalks Jackie’s brother’s Facebook for a bit after the phone call to make sure he’s not just lying about the flu to get out of inviting Newt to the holiday bash he’s definitely having. It becomes clear pretty quick it’s pretty legit—he’s made exactly one post in the last few days, and it’s a selfie of him looking absolutely horrid in his bed, advising everyone to not be like him and get their flu shots. Not lying, then. Damn it. There’s not even going to be anything for Newt to crash.

“Damn it,” Newt groans, and slams his laptop shut.

In all honesty, Newt’s not pissed about missing the party itself. He’s pissed about missing the party guests. How else is he going to have his annual spat at the snack table with his mortal enemy, Dr. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed Gottlieb?

Mortal enemy is too strong. Rival, maybe? Though certainly not a friendly one. He’s fond of Dr. Gottlieb, really, in some insane, backwards kinda way, like he’s a specimen Newt would love nothing more than to cram under a microscope and study up close. What makes him tick? What makes him scowl like that, yell at Newt—more or less a stranger—like that, attend the same party year after year like that only to stand in the darkest corner like a vampire and avoid every single other person? The first time they met was at the party three years ago, when Dr. Gottlieb loudly accused Newt of deliberately snagging the last cucumber finger sandwich because he somehow knew Dr. Gottlieb was eyeing it up, too, and only did it to annoy him, and it’s only gone downhill from there. Or maybe uphill. He fascinates Newt.

He’s also insanely attractive to Newt. Bitchy, British, Badly-Dressed, but, my God, what a set of cheekbones, what a set of eyes, what a big ‘ole mouth that Newt can only assume would be awesome for kissing. And only a few inches of height on Newt, too; he wouldn’t even need to stretch up that far to test out his hypothesis.

Since Newt has Facebook open, he does another search for Dr. Gottlieb—Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, technically, though he’s furious whenever Newt tries to call him anything other than his full title. If Newt was normal, he’d just shoot the guy a friend request or something. A simple message. He just stalks his page instead, which makes him feel the sting of the cancelled party even more keenly: Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t post, like, any pictures of himself, but the ones he’s been tagged in by his company and someone who appears to be his brother make it very clear very fast that he kinda just got even hotter over the year. He’s started wearing his oversized glasses on a librarian chain, and his haircut—which had always been a severe sort of undercut—has grown out up top to be adorably poofy. Tragic.

He shoots his ex-drummer a text later. Can you ask Jackie to ask about that Gottlieb guy that’s there every year? Like, what’s his deal?

The reply comes later, while Newt is reheating some leftover Chinese takeout for dinner. they’re friends w gottlieb’s younger bro. mostly invite him to be nice.

“Figures,” Newt mutters.

Well, if there won’t be a party at which to have their annual run-in, Newt is simply going to have to orchestrate a run-in himself. The first step is finding out where Gottlieb works.

Newt picks a miserable day to set his plan into action. A snowstorm swept through the city a few days prior, and before the sidewalks were even finished dethawing, a sleet storm followed and turned them into eighty-percent sheets of ice. And then more snow comes. Newt slips and slides all the way to the cafe across from Gottlieb’s humble little robotics research facility, cursing himself for not having invested in proper winter boots yet. Docs are practical and cool, but they could be warmer, and Newt’s are so old the treads are basically nonexistent. He orders himself the most expensive coffee on the menu as a reward for his troubles and claims a chair near the large shop window in front, underneath a hanging fern. He would simply wait and watch for Gottlieb to walk out. The man had to walk out eventually. Lunch break, or coffee break, or even just clocking out for the day. He had to.

“Would you like to see our sandwich menu, sir?” a waitress asks Newt. “We have a new—"

“Nah, no thanks,” Newt says. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “You don’t have to call me sir, by the way. It makes me feel old. Does a Dr. Gottlieb ever come here?”

The waitress snorts involuntarily; she flushes a second later. “Sorry,” she says. “It’s just that—yes, Dr. Gottlieb comes in a lot, and he’s kind of…”

“Awful?” Newt grins.

“Particular,” the waitress says. “He has us remake his coffee if it’s not perfect enough for him. And we have to write out the whole thing, Dr. Gottlieb, on his cup, every time. He tips really well, though, so we don’t really mind.”

“Has he come in today yet?” Newt says.

She opens her mouth as if to answer the question, but then furrows her eyebrows. “Why do you want to know, anyway? Are you guys friends?”

“Not really,” Newt says. Deciding it’s not worth the effort to explain the complex homoeroticism of his dynamic with Gottlieb, and to random waitress who probably doesn’t give a shit at that, he amends “I mean, yes. Good friends. I’ll see that sandwich menu, actually.”

Newt has a nice breakfast of avocado and egg on a bagel, and pretends to do work on his laptop for a few hours, but—to his disappointment—Dr. Gottlieb doesn’t come in for a coffee. Newt doesn’t catch sight of any familiar dark-haired, scowling men walking in or out of the institute, either. Gottlieb must have off today. Maybe it’s for the best, anyway; Newt’s not totally sure what he would’ve done if he ran into the guy on the street, or how he would have even explained why he’s there to Gottlieb if he did. He was just sort of operating under the assumption he’d figure it out in the heat of the moment. He calls it quits around three in the afternoon, not wanting to walk home in the dark after sunset. “Happy holidays,” he tells the baristas gloomily, and steps out into the snow with one last cardboard cup of coffee.

He mulls it all over in his head as he avoids ice patches and passersby on the way home. Should he ask for Dr. Gottlieb’s number? Is it weird to ask your ex, or even his sister, for the number of a guy you’re sorta-interested in? Newt supposes it’s weird to invite your ex to a holiday party in the first place, but he really wasn’t lying about it being amicable. Maybe he wouldn’t care. He could always just send that fucking Facebook friend request. Or he could just wait until next year. It’s just a year.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t notice the patch of ice directly in front of his apartment until he’s already stepping on it, and his stomach flips in a way that lets Newt knows he’s just fucked up; his worn-out boot loses traction, his arms pinwheel, his coffee goes flying, and he lands—

In someone’s arms?

Well, even that’s not totally right. He lands mostly in someone’s arms, but he hears a little oof, an exclamation of surprise, and then they both topple over and into a snowbank. The coffee lands somewhere next to Newt’s head. “Bugger,” a familiar voice groans.

Newt sits up. Dr. Gottlieb is laying on his back next to him, wrapped in a green parka and about three scarves. To Newt’s relief, he doesn’t look angry. More embarrassed than anything else. “Apologies,” he says. “You were heavier than I’d anticipated. Or perhaps I was not as strong as I anticipated.”

“I appreciate it anyway, dude,” Newt says.

He gets to his feet, locates Gottlieb’s cane from where it’s somehow landed on the other side of the sidewalk, then tugs Gottlieb to his feet as well. Gottlieb makes a face as he rights himself. “You ought to watch yourself, and be more careful,” he says. “You could break your neck next time.”

“Worried about me?” Newt says. He dusts some snow off Gottlieb’s shoulders. “What are you doing outside my apartment, dude?”

“Er,” Gottlieb says.

He goes a strange shade of pink, and clears his throat. “I fancied…a walk. In the snow. Fresh air. And I just happened to be—er—” He clears his throat again. “I happened to discover you lived here, and my walk happened to take me by. I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you’re implying. Or waiting for you. I have better things to do with myself.”

“Really?” Newt says. “’Cause I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” Gottlieb says.

He really is cute right now, with his red-tipped ears, his dumb coat, his dumb scarves, the snow sticking to his back and his poofy hair. Sticking to his long eyelashes. It’s the first time Newt’s ever seen the guy not, like, at least mildly annoyed at him; it’s doing something funny to his heart. “Hey, you wanna come in for a coffee or something?” he says. “Mine kinda spilled, and I could go for another.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Gottlieb says.

Newt grins. “Come on, I know you want to. It’s cold as shit out and you’ve clearly been out here for a while. We can order a pizza or something, too.”

“Well,” Gottlieb says, and he ducks his head as he finally smiles back. It’s worth the wait, because my God, is it cute, all broad and crooked. Newt has the feeling not too many people get to witness it. “Perhaps for a bit. I was hoping to discuss your latest article with you, you know, and was very put out when I learned I wouldn’t be seeing you at the party this year.”

“Oh?” Newt says. He holds out his hand, and Gottlieb startles visibly a moment before taking it. Newt can feel how cold Gottlieb is even through his thick red mitten—he could use a little warming up. Newt can light a fire in the fireplace he rarely uses…maybe break out some wine…it’ll be nice and romantic… “Did you like it?”

“Not in the slightest,” Gottlieb says cheerily.

“Just what I was hoping,” Newt says. “After you, Doctor.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

heart on your sleeve, george x reader

request: from anon: “Can we have a super fluffy George story with these prompts? “Am I bothering you?” “What’s the magic word?” “Can I be honest with you?” I’m so in love with your writing!!!” | omg, STOP. this made my day! thank you for your kind words, i can’t even stand it, i love writing for you guys and missed it so much—it’s people like you that keep me motivated! i smiled like a goof when i received these prompts...i hope you like it darling!! also oops this is kind of long i got carried away, yiiiiikes

prompts: “am i bothering you?”, “what’s the magic word?”, “can i be honest with you?”

warnings: the inability to deal w anything bc weasley men are perf

The Great Hall

Clank! A box hit the table with a loud noise and I nearly jumped out of my seat. Many students from the other tables look our way, but quickly went back to their dinner. I was busy biting into a piece of chicken, when two lanky redheads sat down on either side of me.

“Just two more days,” the first said, “Until we finally see—”

“—who the real Hogwarts champion is!”

Their enthusiasm was welcomed, but they seemed to be a little too excited about the upcoming Triwizard Tournament challenges. “First off, it’s a lot longer than two more days,” I told them and watched as their smiles drooped. “Secondly, how d’you know it’ll be a Hogwarts champion? Fleur Delacour could take home the entire bloody tournament, or Krum, perhaps? Don’t put all your sickles in one basket, boys.”

Fred and George were silent a moment. I thought that maybe, maybe I’d finally gotten the last word in, but of course I was wrong. They both began animatedly chatting about the first challenge.

“How could you even think that, Y/N?”

“It’s definitely going to be either Harry or Cedric,”

“Those tosspots from the other schools don’t even stand a chance,”

“Hogwarts is the superior wizarding school!”

I swatted their hands and said, “Oh hush, would you? Your allegiance towards Hogwarts is truthfully beautiful, boys, but I’d rather not have a Durmstrang pick a fight with either one of you because you swore your truth so bloody loud.”

They ignored this and continued on. To me, Fred said, “D’you want to place bets with us?”

“Yeah, for the upcoming challenges!” George chimed in.

I looked at their box on the table. It had already been halfway filled, and many students were peering at the twins excitedly. I’m sure everyone was just as enthralled with the idea of placing bets on who’d win each challenge, let alone the entire Triwizard Tournament. The goblet was sitting atop a pedestal at the front of the Great Hall where the professors were chatting animatedly about the tournament, no doubt, and delving into the delicious feast in front of them.

I shut the box, and Fred and George glanced at one another before turning their attention back towards me. “Can we eat first?”

“Absolutely not,” Fred said. “This is important business to take care of, Y/N! We only have so much time!”

George poked me in the ribs and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Quit it,” I told him, but he wouldn’t stop. I nearly knocked over my entire plate of food, but I didn’t really care that much. “Knock it off,”

George didn’t stop. “Am I bothering you? Say the magic woooord!” he sang, completely sarcastic by the sounds of it. He finally gave in when he saw tears forming in my eyes from laughing so hard, and I had regained enough composure to point towards the food.

The twins groaned in unison. “Fine,” George said. “But you’re not getting out of this that easy, Y/N.”

I took a scoop full of mashed potatoes and plopped it down onto his plate. “Eat up, Georgie.”

The First Challenge, After

The Gryffindor common room was absolutely buzzing. The surprise of the real life dragons on Hogwarts grounds had died down a bit, and everyone was now focused on Harry defeating his and preparing for the next challenge. Fred and George had hoisted Harry up onto their arms while the common room cheered. The fire roared, and butterbeer was being passed around in large amounts to warm everyone up from their day in the cold. I was able to snag an armchair that had been left unattended, and I felt a body sit down next to me. I could almost hear his smile. “Having a day, aren’t you?”

“A bloody good one at that,” George gulped down some of his butterbeer. The tip of his nose was still pink from being outside and he wrapped his hands tightly around his cup. “Any thought of joining us in placing our bets?”

“I dunno, George,” I told him truthfully. “You two are sort of ripping off all the first and second years, aren’t you?” I winked.

He scoffed. “Ripping them off? Hardly, darling. We’re merely teaching them early. You can never start too young. Listen, just say the word, and you’re in. Truthfully, I think Freddie’s going to lose. He is putting all of his sickles into one basket. I’m taking your advice, though—I kind of think maybe one of the other two will take the entire tournament.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, now completely enthralled. Next to me, the fire was raging. “And who’re you thinking will win this?”

George thought for a moment. “Maybe Krum—he was bloody brilliant at the Quidditch World Cup.”

Someone began to blast music from the other side of the common room. It was the late hours of the evening now, and while my four poster seemed rather inviting, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep with this celebration going on. He watched as Harry lifted up the golden egg, his eyes sparkling. I suddenly felt a strong wave of empathy towards him.

“I know you wanted to enter,” I said, remembering his and Fred’s ingenious plan of tricking the goblet with their aging potion. I thought about how terrifying the first task was, and I was just as nervous for number two. It felt better to have George next to me in the stands instead of out in the pitch, battling a dragon. “But I’m kind of glad you couldn’t.”

He looked at me quizzically, and then grinned a little—however, he still seemed confused. “Why?”

My heart began to beat, thinking of either him or Fred out there, doing these dangerous tasks—getting hurt, losing—or worse. “Because, I couldn’t handle either of you out there!” I exclaimed. “That would be horrible! I genuinely do not understand how your brother or Hermione are dealing with Harry being in this tournament. If it was either of you two, truthfully, I dunno if I’d be able to watch—I mean, you’re my best friends! I’d rather have you next to me, spectating.”

George’s cheeky grin softened, and I could tell that I touched him in a way. It was a small, intimate moment, when his twin came in and ended it abruptly.

“Y/N...that is just the absolute sweetest thing I have ever heard. Hear that, Georgie? She just couldn’t handle us being out there,”

I rolled my eyes. Fred plopped down on the floor beside me and began to poke at my shoes. He continued to laugh, and more and more students came over to sit by us and wanted to place more bets with the twins. And although George was now tangled up in his business, he kept throwing me glances and those soft smiles and I felt a twinge in my heart. I knew it had meant more to him then he let on, what I said. His eyes were glistening with a new type of confidence and passion that I knew just couldn’t be from the bets.

The Yule Ball, After

By Christmas Eve night, the grounds were covered in a few inches of snow. It continued to fall softly—not in a blustery sort of way—all day long, creating a beautiful blanket of white. Everyone had been bustling around like crazy all day long—doing their best to try and get ready for the Yule Ball in an orderly fashion. I wasn’t too concerned.

The night absolutely flew by. It started out with a gorgeous dance in a magnificently decorated Great Hall, followed by dinner and dessert. After that, the real party had begun. Students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons had finally all come together despite their differences and the rest of the impending tournament. After a while, it had become rather stuffy and sweaty in there—I just had to get out.

I wrapped my shawl around me and made my way for the doors. The cool, wintry air hit my skin with force, but it felt wonderful. I sat on a nearby bench and watched as the snow fell lightly to the ground. It was still and silent. Suddenly, I heard footsteps. I tugged at my shawl and pulled it tighter around my shoulders when George stepped into view.

“Hey,” he made his way over towards me. “What’re you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“Just needed to step away for a moment,” I told him. “This night has been a whirlwind! Just needed some fresh air.” He sat down next to me and I let my shawl fall off of my shoulders. I turned towards him and asked, “Hey, how did it go with that Beauxbatons girl Freddie was trying to get you to dance with? Did she place any bets?” I winked.

He peered at me with a sparkle in his eye. His demeanor was calmer than usual, which was strange to me—he and his brother were always doing this or that, going somewhere or planning something next. But here, in the snow, on Christmas Eve, he was sitting here, completely relaxed and content, no plans in sight.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asked me.

I was sort of taken off guard. Nearby, a couple was twirling in the snow, sharing kisses in the moonlight and the snowflakes. I turned back towards George. “Of course you can.”

“I don’t care about that Beauxbatons girl,” he told me truthfully. “I only care about you. I was going to ask you to this, you know, as a date...but you were so set on the two of us and Freddie going as a group, I didn’t want to stomp all over your plans,” he chuckled lightly. Snowflakes were melting atop his eyelashes now and his red hair looked fiery against the backdrop of the pearl white snow. He peered at me solemnly. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle you being out there either—you know, in the tournament.”

My heart raced. Bloody finally. It’d taken me years of strict concentration to not wear my heart on my sleeve in front of him. It didn’t work very well, though. Fred had figured it out almost immediately, and I made him swear not to say anything. Either George knew, but didn’t tell me, or Fred really did keep his promise and George genuinely could not tell that I’d always been mad for him. It didn’t really matter, in the end. I placed my hand on top of his and glanced at his watch. After midnight. It was Christmas Day. “I reckon there’s time for one more dance. Care to join me?”

George stood up and took my hand. “As long as you promise not to step on my feet,” he winked.

“Oh, now what’s the fun in that?” I asked him teasingly. “It’s Christmas! Your first present—an absolutely terribly awkward dance with me. C’mon, I promise you’ll love it.”

The Great Hall was nearly empty, which gave me an excess amount of room to trip and stumble, no doubt. George wrapped his arms around my waist and began to twirl me. “This is a pretty good Christmas gift,” he said, and placed a light kiss on top of my nose. I could feel my cheeks turn rosy and warm—the same way my insides felt when he leaned in close to me and continued, “In fact—the best.”

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #weasley twins #twinny twin twinnsssss #fred and george

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bensakindofmagic · 4 years

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Chapter Fifteen

A/N: hey hey hey, sorry it’s been a while, but life is super busy atm, so writing is going on hold in favour of actual uni work. but I'm here now to grace your screens and your hearts with a little chapter of ben hardy christmassy fluff. enjoy

Warnings: a tiny wee bit of swearing

w/c: 3k+

Chapter Fifteen

Christmas came and went in a blur of mince pies and mulled wine, and cozy nights at Ben’s place, snuggled under a blanket with the greatest hits of Christmas music playing and a youtube video of a fire on the telly. It was all fairy lights and fluffy coats and old movies that made you feel like a kid again. Though you met up with everyone as often as you could over the break, you all went your separate ways for Christmas to be with your families, and you and Ben thought it was too soon to be having Christmas Day together — though the conversation did make you imagine what that would be like, maybe ten years down the line, in a house with a few kids running around. It would be absolute chaos, the older ones would be arguing over their new toys, you would be fretting about getting the turkey cooked on time, Ben would be frantically trying to get one of the kids’ toys working before they got upset, but in a moment of quiet he would pull you onto his lap and kiss your cheek, telling you how proud he was of your little family, how much he loved you all. The thought made your stomach tighten.

Instead, you had your own little Christmas celebration a few days later, and everyone was due to come round to Ben’s with their partners. You were cooking a full roast dinner for everyone, and Ben had cleaned the place to within an inch of its life. Fairy lights were up everywhere, candles filled the air with hints of cinnamon, and the tree sparkled quietly in the corner. You remembered decorating it with Ben, and smiled at the memory of him laughing at you as you anally made sure every decoration was well placed and facing the right way. He had taken advantage of you reaching up to hang a bauble on a high branch and tickled you relentlessly. You’d kicked and squealed as you rolled around on the floor, and when Ben had landed atop you, breathing heavily, his eyes locked intensely onto yours, you couldn’t help but bring his lips, and with them his whole body, crashing onto you. It was suffocating, really, how much you adored him.

“How’s it going?” Ben called as you heard him come through the front door and into the kitchen. He was sweaty from the gym, his tshirt sitting snug on his chest. He almost sparkled in the cool December sunlight.

“Yeah good, all on track.”

He came up behind you and rested a hand on your hip, leaning across to kiss your cheek.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty,” he murmured, but there was something about that musky sweet scent that made you hum. “I’m just going to jump in the shower then I’ll come and help.”

As promised, he wasn’t long and came out of the bedroom in slacks and a shirt, looking handsome and smelling of cologne.

“What can I do, angel?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

You pointed him to the carrots, already peeled and waiting to be chopped.

“I can do that,” he nodded, “Discs or batons?”

“Always batons,” you insisted, and he chuckled.

“I’m learning new things about you everyday.”

Music was playing and you had a glass of wine in hand by the time the knock came on the door. As much as you were excited to see your friends, the sound had almost pained you. It was the most exquisite bliss just being with Ben, pottering about the kitchen together, rarely speaking but exchanging loving glances, singing along to the music, peppering each other with chaste but frequent kisses. But you greeted your friends with open arms, and ushered them to the table. You fussed over getting them drinks, and making sure Gwil and Allen’s partners felt welcome and comfortable.

“How is it that we’re at my house but you’re hosting?” Ben muttered to you as you poured out two glasses of wine.

“I can’t help it,” you chuckled. “Will you grab those chipolatas out of the oven?”

“Yes ma’am.”

As you passed him, you stuck out your cheek and he placed a sloppy kiss on it.

“You two are sickening,” Lucy smiled as you passed her a glass. You smiled, bashful, but she only continued, “I’m so glad it’s working out for you.”

“Allen told me you guys started seeing each other pretty recently?” Jessica, Allen’s girlfriend, inquired.

“Yeah, only a couple months ago.”

“Is that all?” Gwil’s girlfriend Erin exclaimed, “God, you seem like you’ve been together for years.”

“It’s a match made in heaven,” Lucy winked.

You ate till you feared you would explode and then ate some more — dessert is essential, no matter how full you believe yourself to be. You spent much of the evening getting to know the other girls, exchanging past dating horrors and dishing out the gossip on the boys to each other. For much of the meal you could feel Ben’s eyes on you from the other end of the table, and occasionally you looked up from your plate to see him gazing at you soppily. He would smile, or wink, and you would blush a little but return the gesture. You noticed Joe catch your eye and whisper something to Ben, but your curiosity was quashed as Jessica asked you a question.

“You two are really smitten, huh?” Joe chuckled in Ben’s ear.

Ben faced him, concerned, “Sorry mate, I don’t mean to shove it down your throat.”

Joe chuckled and assured him it was okay, sure he was the only single person at the table but he wasn’t bothered by it. “I’m happy for you, man, honestly.”

“I don’t know how I got so lucky. It already feels like she’s my whole world.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I did wonder if you were ready to commit yet, you know? I had occurred to me that your feelings might be a rebound, just someone to latch on to, but it really feels like you two are the real deal.”

Ben smiled; it was a comfort to know that other people saw what he felt. Sometimes it scared him, how quickly he had fallen for you, but when he looked over at you an increasingly familiar feeling of certainty and tingling warmth settled over him. You seemed to move in slow motion, a laugh bubbling from you, your glass sitting lazily between your fingers, radiant. The dying light shone like a halo behind you. You glowed. He seemed to gravitate towards you like a magnet finding due north. You were his ground zero, his homing beacon. And he wanted you for the rest of his life. Unlike so many times before that thought didn’t frighten him, it didn’t make his pulse thump in his ears. Instead, he inhaled and took a long sip of his drink to hide his grin.

“She’s perfect for you, man. You’re perfect for each other.”

He looked Joe full in the face and nodded, “I know.”

When he caught your eye again from across the table he winked and you felt suddenly pulled toward him. You had the urge to hold him tight in your arms and kiss every inch of skin you could find.

“This is incredible, Y/N, thank’s for cooking!” Gwil complimented, shaking you from the thoughts in your head. The others chimed in with their agreement.

“It’s my pleasure. Plus I couldn’t let you all endure Ben’s cooking.”

Ben spluttered, gesticulating indignantly, “Why does no one believe I’m a good cook?”

“I’m sure you are,” Rami said holding back a grin, “But you’ve got nothing on our Y/N,”

After everyone had left you lay snuggled on the sofa, half watching a rerun of some old movie and half napping. Ben stroked your hair gently while he fiddled with his phone.

“Hey, so I’ve been invited to a New Year’s party with some old school friends.”

“Oh right, sounds fun.”

You hadn’t really thought about New Year, supposing you would have an evening in with Ben. But if he was going to a party you were sure you could gatecrash whatever Sav was doing.

“You’d be keen then?” he proposed, hopeful.

You sat up, “I’m invited? To a party with your mates from school?”

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He seemed nervous as he continued, “I thought you might enjoy it, you know, getting to know them a bit. You only really know me as an actor and—”

“I’d hope I know you a little better than that,” you said as you nestled closer into him. “But I’d love to come and meet all your friends. But you have to come and meet Savvy.”

He smiled and a tension that you hadn’t previously noticed in his shoulders abated. “It’d be my pleasure.”

You kissed his cheek, then stroked his jaw to make him face you before planting a kiss on his lips. He hummed, and you both turned back to the TV.

After a moment you frowned, muttering, “I suppose that’s one step closer to meeting the parents.”

You both went stiff.

“We’ll talk about that another time.”

New Year’s Eve was a blast. You had always found it the most disappointing of he annual celebrations because it turned everyone into one of two people. All those in couples acted sickeningly happy and in love, and all the more keen to shove it down everyone’s throats — much like their tongues — and as you had never been that person they just made you want to throw up. Or it turned you into a sour singleton, bitter at being alone on New Year (again), desperate to find someone to kiss at midnight, the combination of which usually resulted in horrific drunkenness so you were left either holding back your friend’s hair while she vomited in the toilet, or you were the one doing the vomiting. Either way, it wasn’t pleasant, vomit was involved, and the next day was a guaranteed write off. Excellent start to the year. But this year was different. This year, you were the one who was sickeningly happy and instead of vodka making you feel sick, it was the moments when you caught yourself in blatant acts of PDA with Ben. As much as you didn’t want to be that person, you were dizzyingly happy. A few drinks in, with a pleasant buzz of adrenaline and Ben’s arm sitting heavily around your waist, you mingled confidently with Ben’s old school friends and delighted in all the embarrassing teenager stories that they seemed to have stocked in abundance. Your particular favourite was when he’d been sent to the headmaster’s office after he told his chemistry teacher that his ‘salmon’ pink shirt was, “about as salmon as your bald head, sir.” You looked with playful intrigue at the girls that he had had flings with or crushes on, and cheered him on louder than anyone else as he downed his pint in a race. It sounded weird to you, hearing his friends call him ‘Jonesy’, and there were moments when you saw him revert to an older version of himself — more cocky, more brazen, less of the reasoned, intelligent, compassionate man you knew him to be. It didn’t really bother you, but it did make you wonder more about what he had been like before you knew him, and if any of that change had been because of you. But when he held you during the countdown… 10, 9, 8… looking unflinchingly into your eyes as the numbers ticked down… 7, 6, 5… you saw the Ben you knew… 4, 3… and you bathed in him… 2, 1. A chorus of ‘Happy New Year!’ resounded through the room and Ben kissed you fearlessly.

He pulled away but let his forehead rest against yours. “Happy New Year, gorgeous.”

“Happy New Year,” you hummed back, feeling alive and fulfilled and happy.

“Oh you have for sure got it easier,” you laughed, pushing the door open to a busy cafe and scanning the room for your best friend. “This is only two people, and they basically count as one.”

“No way, it’s definitely easier at a party. There’s booze to take the edge off and you can just talk to someone else if it gets awkward. Here I’m trapped.”

You spotted Savannah and Chris by the window and grinned. “I’m so glad you see it that way. Anyway, it’s just lunch and it’s not like you’ll be alone, I won’t go wondering off to chat to someone else and abandon you in a room full of strangers.”

“That’s harsh,” he frowned.

You chuckled and took him by the hand, dragging him over to your friends. Sav turned her head, dark chocolate curls that you’d always envied dancing playfully, and she jumped up to greet you, barely holding in an excited squeal. The two of you spoke constantly and met up whenever you could, but reuniting with her was always a tad melodramatic.

“Darling! It’s so good to see you, you look radiant,” she beamed as held you at arms length before wrapping you up in a crushing hug. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” she muttered in your era.

You smacked her gently on the arm and reassured her that you weren’t before stepping round her to give her husband, Chris, a hug too.

Ben stood awkwardly behind you, hands thrust into his pockets, and you shook your head lightly.

“Um, guys this is my boyfriend, Ben.”

It occurred to you that you hadn’t actually called him your boyfriend before. You never had ‘the conversation’ and you’d spent most of your time on set where everyone already knew. Even when it had come out that you were together, you never told anyone yourself and people had asked you if you and Ben were “seeing each other” but never if he was your boyfriend. Ben had introduced you to his friends by your name, nothing else. But Ben, always totally collected, didn’t seem to notice the way you stalled, and shook Chris’ outstretched hand. Savvy couldn’t contain herself and went right in for a hug — you knew she was using it to see how cuddly he was, what cologne he used, how muscular his shoulders were. You had tried to reassure Ben over meeting Sav (he knew exactly how important she was to you, she was basically a sister) telling her she wouldn’t be judging and he needn’t worry about making a good impression because you knew he would without trying, but it was blatant that she was sizing him up.

‘Be nice,’ you mouthed behind Ben’s back.

She shrugged, eyes widening as if to say ‘I don’t know what you mean’.

You made small talk until the waiter came to take your order. Ben shifted in his seat beside you; he hid it well but you could tell he was nervous, so you gently clasped his hand under the table.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Chris asked.

“We already know that,” chided Sav impatiently.

He rolled his eyes and muttered, “I want to hear it from them.”

“Well I suppose you’d say were started dating that night after we went to the pub,” Ben offered, looking at you, “We never actually ‘made it official’.”

“That was, what, two and a half months ago?” you commented.

“Just now was actually the first time you called me your boyfriend.” So he did notice. “It sounded nice,” he whispered, only to you.

Chris smiled, “So all pretty new then?”

“I guess, but I think we feel settled.” Ben squeezed your hand.

Conversation flowed freely through the meal, and it particularly heartened you to see Ben and Chris getting on so well because you fully intended to spend much more time together as a four. Every now and again Savvy would catch your eye and grin, pumping her eyebrows. You were so desperate to hear what she thought of him, to get her seal of approval — you knew he was amazing but you wanted her to know it too — so as soon as you had finished your food you announced that you were going to the toilets and Sav was to come with you.

The second the door closed behind you she burst, “Y/N he’s great. I’ll admit I was skeptical after the whole fingering thing and how long it took you to get together, and him not talking to you, but honestly… he’s great. And he’s perfect for you.”

Relief flooded through you and exploded from your face in a grin. You smothered her in a hug. “I’m so glad.”

“You adore him, don’t you?”

Your sigh was almost more of a grunt as you effused, “Completely.”

“I knew you liked really him but I had no idea it was this serious already. I don’t blame you though, babe, he’s gorgeous.”

“Isn’t he?” You felt like a teenager with a celebrity crush. “And he’s kind and thoughtful, he makes the bed every morning and he smells great—”

“He does smell great.”

“—and he’s charming and so good in bed, like, he’s attentive and considerate but also a fucking machine,” you inhaled, “and he’s funny and so intelligent and he can cook…”

“God, hurry up and marry him already.”

You looked at her honestly, “Don’t even joke, I’ve thought about it.”

Sav laughed brightly, “Of course you have.”

You slumped against the wall and mused longingly, “He’s so pretty.”

“He is,” she nodded, “and what’s more I think he’s a keeper.”

“What have you two been nattering about then?” you smiled as you sat back down next to Ben, sliding up close to him on the bench seat.

“Just discussing juggling work with starting a family,” Ben stated sedately.

When you pried further that evening, it warmed you to hear Ben talk about how lucky he felt that he was in a profession where he could take a prolonged period off work to help when the babies were born: knowing he wanted kids at all was a relief. He had reminded you that he already knew you wanted three children, because he’d asked you back when you barely knew each other, on the very first day of shooting. It felt like a lifetime ago. Your life, your future, had changed since then. Because now Ben was not only in it, he was all of it.

taglist: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie @rogmeddows @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud @drowse13 @shhhs3cret @blind-melon-taylor @ohsososophisticatedd @malfoybaby @littlepanda-love @leezie @shesakillerquueennn @borhapgrande @stfxlou @vangogh-groupie @dep-thx (just ask if you want to be added to the tag list! sorry if tumblr won’t let me tag you)

#kind of magic series #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #soft ben #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody #queen #christmas imagine #borhap #fluff #ben hardy fluff

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lindsaylouus · 4 years

Text

7 Swans a-Swimming 🏊‍♀️🏊‍♀️🏊‍♀️ (Monsta X - I.M)

A/N: Back to the inaccurate emojis. Can you believe there isn’t a swan? (Spoiler for the 6th day, there’s not a goose either).

Just wanna say, I love Changkyun, you love Changkyun, we ALL love Changkyun

Boxing Day is always a weird one, right?

You’ve had Christmas Day, and all the build up before it. Now, there’s this massive come down.

But usually, you’re still super festive, refusing to let the Christmas spirit leave you and gripping onto it for dear life.

This year though, was different. You didn’t feel like holding on to that joyous nature, and Changkyun had noticed.

You sat on the park bench, staring into space. You could feel the Christmas hangover in the cool air, hear children excitedly chatter to each other about what they got the day before and see loved up couples on swan boats, sailing carefree along the river.

However, when usually you’d be filled with other people’s joy, all you could focus on was your own pain.

Ugh, brooding much? But you couldn’t help it.

Comes to something when you’re looking at the real swans paddling away in the water, and you’re jealous of them for not having relationship problems, or no relationship at all, now.

Your boyfriend had left you on Christmas Eve. Yeah. Christmas Eve. For another girl. It was still so raw, you’d been going out for almost two years, and out of the blue this happens. Well, not exactly out of the blue.

Changkyun hadn’t heard from you in almost 24 hours, which was very out of character for you, and instantly knew something was up.

‘Y/N, what the Hell, where have you been?!’ He’d finally tracked you down, knowing you always came to the park to clear your head.

He figured he’d find you here at some point. He even thought about heading to your house on Christmas Day, but he thought better, leaving you to spend time with your family, and him.

You looked up at your friend, and slowly turned away again. You didn’t want to talk about this with him, yet there was no one else you’d rather talk to about it.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that your best friend was not the biggest fan of your boyfriend, and never had been. It wasn’t without good reason, either.

Not long after the two of you began dating, Changkyun and his friends invited the both of you to their New Year’s Eve party. They wanted to meet your new man, and size him up, as friends do. Especially Changkyun. He was always wary and protective whenever you started dating someone new.

You wanted to confront him face to face while you had the chance. You loved him, but he just never seemed to approve of your choice in men.

He was retrieving beers from the fridge before the party kicked off, just you and him in the kitchen, this was your chance.

‘You’re young and naive, Y/N,’ Changkyun had said in response to your question.

‘I’m older than you, dumbass,’ you retorted, pinching his cheek. You were forever winding each other up, ever since you met a few years ago. A chance encounter involving a shopping cart and a rather angry shopkeeper.

It’s a long story.

‘Maybe in years, Y/N, but not in mind,’ he continued, lecturing you like a rebellious teenager, ‘I’m just doing my job as a friend, and filtering out the dogs for you.’ He winked and gave you a look that screamed, you’re welcome.

‘What does that even mean?’ You pinched a beer from his arms.

‘See? Where would you be without me?’ He tried to make a get-away, but you blocked his path.

‘Why do you always talk in riddles when I ask you about this? Do you not trust me? I could really do with your support, instead of your judgement for once, Im Changkyun.’ Oh yeah, you pulled out the big guns using his full name.

Changkyun’s tongue was firmly in his cheek, before he responded.

‘It’s not you I don’t trust,’ he began, ‘and I am supporting you, by making sure you’re not being taken advantage of!’ His voice started to grow in volume.

‘Another lover’s quarrel?’ A voice said from the kitchen doorway. Kihyun had appeared behind you. ‘Why don’t you two just kiss and get it over with?’

He began to gather up a variety of covered plates to take through to the living room, as per, enough food to feed an army. Or seven hungry mouths.

‘Not you as well,’ you rolled your eyes and knocked your beer bottle on the kitchen counter, opening it.

‘So you’re the reason we have dents in this!!??’ Kihyun stopped in his tracks, extremely unimpressed by yet another small nook on ‘his’ counter. You froze, but at least it took his mind off teasing you and Changkyun.

He huffed and left the kitchen in a flurry, tutting at you both.

You giggled at each other. One thing that united you more than picking on each other, was picking on Kihyun.

‘Changkyun, can you please, just try to be nice. Just this once, for me. I really like this guy and I don’t want to screw it up.’ You’d resorted to begging.

Changkyun saw the pleading in your eyes, ‘OK,’ he huffed, ‘but I’m doing it for you, because you asked so nicely.’ He mimicked you and swayed out of the kitchen. You wanted to both laugh at him and strangle him, all at once.

The night had been going pretty well, laughs, jokes, pleasantries, you were impressed. Especially with Changkyun, he really was trying. He’d been chatting to your boyfriend for a while now and they seemed to be getting along. Just the idea of him liking your new man, put a huge smile on your face.

If only it lasted. That same night, whatever positive thoughts you had, were eradicated.

‘I SWEAR Y/N, I wouldn’t make this up!’ Changkyun grabbed your wrist, as you tried to turn away from him.

‘ENOUGH CHANGKYUN! I don’t care what you think you heard, OK? I don’t care, I’ve literally had enough!’ You escaped his grip and stormed down the stairs.

‘Y/N, please! You have to believe me!’ He rocketed down the steps after you. Both of your voices were reaching volumes that others were noticing, including your new boyfriend.

You turned suddenly, stopping him in his tracks, your voice lowered, almost as a warning. ‘Just stop, Changkyun, please. I can’t do this with you anymore. Something always comes up, there’s always a reason. Always. I don’t want to lose you. But, I can’t do this.’

With that, you and your date left.

You couldn’t help but cry that night. You just couldn’t win. Since when did this friendship become so hard?

As time went on, you and Changkyun reconciled. You couldn’t not be in each other’s lives. You agreed to turn the other cheek, and not force Changkyun to get on with your boyfriend. In turn, he agreed not to talk about him at all when he was with you.

Not an ideal arrangement, but it was worth it if it meant you two could just hang out.

Now you were both sat on the park bench, trying and failing to think of what to say.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. It was a long time ago now..’ Changkyun was sat about a foot away from you, legs stretched out, hands in his lap.

‘But you were right. All that time I thought.. I don’t even know what I thought. I guess part of me always knew you were right, that he was seeing someone else. I just didn’t want to believe you.’ You sighed heavily and finally looked Changkyun in the eyes.

Those eyes. Eyes that you trusted more than anything else in the world. Even if you didn’t act like it.

Looking back, he’d always been right. Whenever he had an inkling, a hunch or any kind of negative vibe about someone, he’d always been right. So annoying.

He let his mind wonder back to that party two years ago. He’d overheard your new boyfriend talking to another girl on his phone. Changkyun had stuck around long enough to know for sure and immediately relayed it to you.

He knew what would happen. He knew he’d been quick to judge your other dates in the past, but this was different. But he had to step back, it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. It’d been a long couple of years. But it confirmed one thing for sure. He was completely in love with you.

Shocker.

Changkyun finally met your eyes, and neither of you looked away.

‘I’m so sorry, Changkyun,’ you meekly said, as tears were brimming in your eyes.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you, saying nothing, not needing to. He was your friend first and foremost and he wouldn’t let anything threaten that. He also knew that there was only one way to react in this situation.

‘I don’t want a lot for Christmas...’

Your eyes shot open, was he singing?

‘There is just one thing I neeeeeed.’

Oh Lord, he’s singing.

‘I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas Treeeee.’

Why is he singing?

‘I just want you for my own, more than you could ever knowwww.’

He was getting progressively louder.

‘Make my wish come truuuuuuuuuuuueeee, ooooh ooo ooooh.’

He’s too into it, you’ve lost him.

‘All I want, for Christmaaass, iiiiiiiiiisssssss YOOOOOOOOUUUUU.’

You wiggled out of his grip, and before he could utter another note, your lips were on his.

Changkyun’s eyes opened, his arms were out by his sides. He couldn’t quite process what was happening. As your hands held either side of his face, he decided to just go with it. He relaxed and closed his eyes, but placed his hands on his own thighs.

He didn’t want to kid himself that this would go further than a park bench.

To you, something about this felt right, yet so weird at the same time. I mean, this is Changkyun, your friend, the dude who sings loudly in public to make you laugh, he was your confidant, your emotional support...

Wow, he’s everything that other guys hadn’t been. Woah, serious lightbulb moment.

You broke the kiss and pulled away, but still remained close enough, that you could feel his warm breath against your face.

‘I’m so sorry Changkyun, I.. I.. I’m so freaking stupid!’ Realisation had hit you like a tonne of bricks.

‘Can I get that in writing please? Or I can record it on my phone, if that’s easier?’ The smallest of smirks appearing on his face. A face that you had forced yourself to be blind to for the last three years.

You hit him on the shoulder and he dramatically fell back on the bench, feigning injury.

You smiled for the first time in two days.

‘I don’t deserve you,’ a solemn truth in your words, hung in the air.

‘No, Y/N,’ Changkyun lifted himself up to look at you once more, ‘you deserve better than what you’ve been settling for.’

You stared at your friend, wide eyed, things continuously falling into place.

‘Ahh, I’m so cheesy,’ Changkyun giggled, there he was, forever unchanging, ‘but it’s the truth.’

‘So.. what now?’ You looked at him expectantly, everything was so up in the air.

He takes a deep breath, ‘I’ll be your friend for as long as you need me to. And, if you ever need more than that from me, I’ll be right here.’

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. The friend who’d stuck by your side, who loved you, who had to sit and watch you make a complete fool of yourself for years, still wanted you.

‘But for now,’ he continued, ‘we go on one of those.’ He pointed to one of the large swan boats you’d been looking at earlier.

‘Really?’ This guy was just full of surprises today.

‘Yep, you’ve always wanted to go on one of these, but all your previous suitors were all scrooges. Not this guy. Consider it a Boxing Day gift.’

Changkyun stood up and offered his hand to you.

You take it, and don’t let go. Before walking off to the boats, you place a soft kiss on his cheek. You never felt worthy of someone like Changkyun, you didn’t think you’d be good enough for him. He was such a special guy, you felt like you had nothing to give in return.

And yet, settling for others was what could’ve torn you apart. Turns out you were the dumbass, not him.

He smiles at you again, before saying, ‘let’s not tell Kihyun about this, we’ll never hear the last of it.’

‘Agreed,’ you replied whole heatedly, good old Kihyun, reuniting you once again.

#Monsta X #monsta x christmas #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fluff #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x im changkyun #im changkyun #changkyun #IM #changkyun imagines #changkyun fluff #changkyun fanfic #Kpop Christmas #12 Days of Ficmas

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kellanved-ammanas · 4 years

Text

Invite

“So, are you going to be inviting your boyfriend over for Christmas?”

Scout’s grip on the phone tightened a bit; he somehow hadn’t even considered that and they were getting off for Christmas in less than two weeks. He’d been busy with work and preparing for the team Christmas party but he still should’ve considered it before now. “Am I allowed to invite him over?”

“Of course,” his mother answered with a slight chuckle. “If he wants to come and it wouldn’t be slighting his own family.”

“I… don’t think he has a family.” Scout honestly didn’t know, it wasn’t something Pyro ever talked about and the few times Scout had probed at his past or personal life it had clearly made Pyro uncomfortable so it was best to just leave it alone.

“Then you must bring him.”

“All right uh… I’ll invite him.”

It wasn’t until half an hour later when their conversation had concluded and Scout was exiting the phonebooth to start heading back for his room when he realized something. Inviting Pyro home for Christmas might not be the best idea. While he’d let Ma and all his brothers know via phone calls and the occasional letter that he was dating someone, he’d neglected to mention Pyro’s oddities.

The need to wear the suit, his unique love of fire that sometimes resulted in things getting burnt down or nearly so, his fire-based hallucinations. Things that Scout didn’t mind, they were part of what made Pyro so special and unique. But… other people tended to judge for him for it. Scout had seen the kind of looks the people of Tuefort often gave Pyro, he’d even had to punch a few people in the gut for saying something. How would Ma or any of Scout’s brother and their various partners and children feel about Pyro?

The absolute last thing Scout wanted to do was to invite Pyro over for Christmas and he end up having a horrible time because of Scout’s family judging him or being downright rude or mean to him. Ma would be fine; she was the nicest human on planet earth as far as Scout was concerned. His brothers though, he wasn’t sure he could trust all of them to be nice, even less so their partners and kids who he didn’t know well due to the way his job kept him physically far away from all of them.

At the same time though, he loved Pyro and wanted him to meet his family and vice versa. So… he should invite him over for Christmas? The meeting had to happen eventually and if things started going south, he could take Pyro out for a short or a long time, they could even stay in a hotel if needed. And maybe he was being pessimistic in his worry anyway. Maybe…

“Did it not go well?”

Scout snapped his head back up to look at Pyro sitting at the desk. While lost in thought, he’d wandered down the hall and back into his room where Pyro was waiting for him. Without his suit on too with the door unlocked, he was getting braver.

Scout closed the door and locked before answering. “Uh actually no,” he said as he sat at the desk across from Pyro. “It went great. But um… anyway, what do you normally do for Christmas?”

“The Christmas party.”

“That’s… it?”

Pyro nodded. “Everyone else leaves after that so there’s nothing to do. I like to walk to Tuefort and look at all the pretty lights sometimes though. And they hold a little party around the big tree in the town square on Christmas Eve. I like to watch that. They kick me out if they catch me though.” Despite how tragic his words were, his tone was neutral, as if being alone on Christmas was a perfectly normal thing for him. Which well… maybe it was.

Scout had never given any thought to what anyone else on the team did during the Christmas break. Evidently no one else had either, else someone should’ve realized Pyro’s situation and remedied it, right? Well, Scout was about to even if it suddenly made him a tad more worried about how his family might treat Pyro because Pyro deserved a good Christmas.

“You want to come home to Boston with me this year?”

Pyro perked up. “Can I? Really?”

“Yes. And I already talked about it with Mom just a bit ago. She’s cool with it and wants me to bring over.”

Pyro clapped as he stood up. He went around the desk to hug Scout, making him stand up too. “I’m excited,” he said, letting go. “I’ve never been to Boston.”

“That’s what you’re most excited about?”

Pyro nodded. “And meeting your mom and brothers.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be an interesting meeting.” All Scout could do was hope it would go well and do everything in his power to make it so. Pyro was happy and excited though and that’s what mattered most, Scout just had to preserve that.

#My writing #Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #Scout/Pyro #Flashfire #Fluff #Christmas Fluff #12 Days of Christmas #Day 6

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thefandomsinhalor · 4 years

Text

The Lucky Pairs of Christmas Underwear

An Advent Calendar fic by thefandomsinhalor

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Rating: Not Rated (it is rated as such until I finish the fic, right now it’s leaning on Mature.)

Summary: Due to heavy workloads and conflicting schedules, Sam and Dean, living in different cities, are both disappointed when it appears that they won't be able to spend the holidays together—something they had always managed to do in the past.

This turn of events, however, offers them both the opportunity to seek someone else to share their respective holidays with, and when Dean's last year crush is paired up with him at the Gift Wrapping booth, and Sam keeps running into a charming new acquaintance, by helping each other, the brothers feel hopeful that Christmas time might not be ruined after all.

Read on AO3

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Chapter One: A Holly Jolly Time

“Dean? Hello? Did you—are you still there?”

Sitting on a very uncomfortable chair at an overpriced café, for someone of his limited means anyway, Dean swallowed hard. Still holding the phone to his ear, he lowered his eyes as he felt his heart growing heavy at the news he had just heard.

“Dean?” repeated Sam at the other end of the line.

“Yeah. Still here. Sorry. Just—I didn’t expect that.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I feel awful. It’s just—work is crazy.”

“It’s okay, Sammy. I get it. Hell, I’m in the same situation. If not worse.”

“And this is why I’m really sorry. I had agreed to be the one to—”

“Sam, stop.” He cleared his throat. “I—it sucks, but like I said, I get it. We’ve been lucky so far, but I guess that this year…” he let out a deep sigh. He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I promise I’ll do my best to change it, but right now, um, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to join you for Christmas,” Sam said in a desolate voice.

Dean nodded blankly. “Any other good news?”

Sam let out a deep sigh in turn.

“I—I just, Dean, I hate the idea that you’ll be alone for Christmas.”

“Me? I’ll be fine, Sam. What about you? What are you going to do?”

“I’ll be okay too. I’ll be at work.”

Dean lowered his phone and shook his head for a moment, and then he brought his phone back to his ear. “That’s what I mean, Sam. You, not being able to make it here because of work, deadlines and travelling schedule, that’s one thing. But to actually work on Christmas? I mean, I’m not even doing that and all I do is work.”

“I don’t have a choice. And honestly, it’s just, you know, one day. For a few hours. Which is really annoying when said like this, but...Work will be a nice distraction. And we can still talk. And skype for the rest of the day if you want. It’s ridiculous, but we can do it. I was almost going to suggest that we postpone Christmas and meet up soon after, but….”

“Nah. I mean, even if I knew for a fact that we could do something in the following week, I feel like we would have missed it. It would still be cool, but you know.”

“That’s what I thought too,” agreed Sam. “But we should do something for New Year’s Eve. I’m definitely working on that.”

“All right. Work will still be nuts on my end, but it should have diminished a bit by then. Or maybe I could make it to your end this time.”

“Dean, no. I—unless you let me help you out with money—”

“No,” blurted out Dean.

“—but I know you won’t agree to it,” said Sam, sighing.

Biting his bottom lip, Dean pondered on Sam’s suggestion. “I’m not saying yes, but I’ll think about it,” he brought himself to say.

“You will?”

“Just because I haven’t seen your freaking face for far too long now. But still. Not a definite yes.”

“But you’ll consider it?”

“Yeah. But it’s still too early in the month to have a clue of what the situation’s going to be at that point. So, I’ll leave it to that for now.”

“All right. That’s great,” said Sam.

Dean could hear how happy Sam was at the idea, so he decided that he should make an effort to make it happen.

“And Dean, even if for whatever reason that doesn’t work out either, I promise I’ll visit you soon, okay?”

“All right, Sammy. But don’t worry. I’m—it’s disappointing, but I know you tried. It will be okay.”

“Thanks Dean. I—thanks for understanding.” There was a long pause, and then Sam asked, “So, besides that? Anything new?”

Welcoming the change to a less depressing topic, Dean said, “Not really.”

“What about work? Is the holiday frenzy rising?”

A slightly less depressing topic.

“The frenzy is settling in, all right,” he sighed.

“Is the music driving you nuts already?”

“It’s been driving me nuts for the last two weeks. I was actually freaking humming Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer yesterday and I didn’t even notice it. I only did when a customer mentioned it.”

Sam let out a laugh. “Sorry. A few more weeks and it will be all over. And it’s better than last year, right? Since you’re at the Chocolaterie this time. I thought you said it was a bit more shielded than the rest of the store now that they moved its location this year.”

“Yeah, well that was the plan, but not anymore.” Dean leaned back into his seat.

“What? I—what do you mean?”

“I was about to tell you earlier. I was transferred a couple days ago to another department. Sort of.”

“No! What? But why?”

Dean cleared his throat. “It just needed to be done.”

“Why? Dean, what does that mean?” asked Sam, nearly aggravated as though he already knew the answer.

Dean debated for a moment whether or not he should share the specifics with his brother, knowing that Sam would most undoubtedly be worried and annoyed at him.

Nor would he be shy to express his views about it.

And Dean had worked really hard to avoid this particular lecture.

But since Sam had been honest about his work situation, he concluded that he owed him the same courtesy.

So, Dean replied, “Because another position opened up at the last minute and it offered more hours. I gave my name and here we are.”

“Dean,” groaned Sam.

I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

“It’s all right, Sam.”

“Is it? How many hours are we talking about now?”

Silence.

“Dean?”

“Twenty hours.”

Sam swore loudly. “On top of your full time job at the garage? And the gig that Jo got you with Pam?”

“I was hoping you forgot about that…”

“I didn’t. Dean, this is nuts. How are you even able to pull this off?”

Dean crossed one arm over his chest, lowering his eyes.

“Bobby is helping me out. I’m solid during the day at the garage throughout the week, so I can have my nights and the weekends to do the rest.”

“That’s not what I meant. Do you even have a day off? A night off?”

“You’re one to talk, Sam. And it’s just for December. Everything will be back to normal after that.”

“December starts tomorrow and it’s already insane. And answer the question.”

Dean sighed. “I work at the store on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights. And in the afternoon during the weekend. And then Saturday nights, I wait at Pam’s events, which is really not a big deal. I did it this summer. It’s good money.”

“You did it once, Dean. One wedding. Not four in a row on top of—”

“No weddings this time. Pam said it will be Christmas parties for companies. The first one is tonight. It’s gonna be fine.”

“That leaves you with what, though? For free time?”

“I still have my evenings Sunday through Tuesday.”

“If you’re not pulling extra hours at the garage, you mean? Which I’m guessing you’re already doing in the mornings during the weekends? Am I right?”

“Sam,” warned Dean.

Sam remained silent for a good minute, until he said, “Dean, I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. It’s all going to go in the piggy bank so I’ll be able to catch my breath during the harsh winter,” he joked.

Sam let out a deep sigh. “And what about the new position at the store? Shit, Dean. I—I know you were really happy about—you were actually looking forward to the Chocolaterie. Now, I feel even worse about not being able to go.”

“It’s not your fault. And anyway, it’s just a job for the holidays. No matter what it is, we both know the novelty would have worn off eventually.”

“Okay, hold on here. Because we both know the real reason you wanted to work in that department. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the job in question…”

Dean pursed his lips, lifting his head to look at the ceiling, annoyed.

“Ugh. Not this again, Sam. I told you, it was…it’s not important.”

“Bull. You’ve been whining about this guy for, like, literally a freaking year now. A year.”

“Well, whatever,” urged Dean. “Doesn’t change anything now as he’s not even here.”

“But you said that last year he hadn’t shown up until a week or so before Christmas.”

“I said I only noticed him at the end of the season. Nuance.”

“But you also said they had added employees as Christmas approached. So maybe he was one of them. And he will be this year too.”

Dean let out a sigh. “I don’t know, Sam. All I can do is wait and see.” And after a short pause, he added in an urgent manner, “If I cared. Which, I don’t. Not really.”

Sam snorted. “Right.”

“What about you, huh? Made any headway with your office crush?”

“I—there’s been progress.”

“Yeah? Asked her out yet?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

At the sound of Sam clearing his throat, Dean shook his head.

“Did you or did you not ask her out, Sam?”

“I…okay, I haven’t yet, but—”

“God, Sam,” said Dean, cutting him off. “What are you waiting for?”

“If you would let me finish, I was going to say I’m going to. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“And when’s that? On your wedding day?”

Sam huffed. “I’ll get to it. The timing and the setting have to be right.”

Dean was not impressed by this statement.

“Don’t wait too long.”

“I won’t.”

Not wanting to push it too far, Dean asked, “Got anything else planned for today?

“Not sure. Kevin texted me. He and some of his friends are going out tonight. He told me the address of the bar. He said he invited Bela too…”

“Perfect! You can make your move then. You’re going, right?”

“I don’t know. I have so much work to do.”

“Sam, I swear if you don’t go, I will somehow teleport to Chicago and drag you there myself.”

“Dean, this isn’t really my scene.”

“That’s precisely why you should go. Live a little. And if Bela’s there, she gets to see you somewhere else than at the office. A different setting, like you’ve been waiting for. And if she’s not there, you still get to have fun.”

“But hitting on her at a bar? Like, that’s just—that’s not really how I had pictured it.”

“Sam, maybe start by finding out if she’s interested? And when you know that she is, feel free to execute whatever fantasy of courtship you had planned out,” he said with a grin on his face. “At least, go to the damn bar and enjoy yourself, huh?”

“In which department are you working at The Milton’s now?” asked Sam.

“Changing the subject, huh? Nice try.”

“I’ll think about what you said,” he assured him. “But I’m curious and you didn’t say earlier.”

There was a reason for that.

“The…I’m working at the Gift Wrapping Booth.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Sorry, the what?”

Dean groaned. “You heard me.”

After a long pause, Sam said, “I see.” Sam hadn’t laughed, but Dean knew full well his brother was most likely holding down a massive fit of laughter. “I’m—wait, aren’t those usually managed by volunteers? And it’s for donations or—”

“It still is. The donation part, I mean. Look, I don’t know the whole story, but apparently, there was an issue last year with some of the volunteers, so this time, they decided to offer their own Gift Wrapping services. Nothing has changed. Every customer is entitled to the services, to donate however much they want, and all the funds goes to the Children’s Hospital, just like last year. The only difference is that the store is employing people instead of relying on volunteers.”

“Is this unusual?”

“I have no clue, but it creates jobs, so I’m not gonna complain about it. It’s actually kinda nice of them to do that since they really don’t have to. And the store is providing the wrapping paper and everything, and let me tell you, it’s not the cheap stuff either.”

“Cool. Cool. I just have one question.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Had they seen you wrap anything before they gave you the job or…”

“It’s wrapping, not rocket science.”

“Dean.”

“I’m fine,” he said defensively. And then, after a short hesitation, he added, “They do have a certain fancy way of doing it.”

“Thought so.”

“But I’ll manage. I practiced at home a bit—I mean it’s wrapping for God’s sake!”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Dean. I was just curious,” said Sam sincerely. “And how do you feel about it so far?”

“Well,” sighed Dean, “honestly, it’s been somewhat uneventful. I’m the only one in the booth—it’s more like a box, but whatever. At least I don’t have anyone boring to tear my ears off, but people haven’t been super eager to have their purchases wrapped so far. So it’s basically been me, sitting on a stupid chair and looking at people buying stuff I can’t afford. While listening to the same twelve songs.”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s encouraging or not, but I’m pretty sure the pace will pick up soon enough.”

“Yeah. Not sure that’s a silver lining.” Moving the phone away from his ear, Dean looked at the time on his phone. “All right,” he said, after putting the phone back, “I have to head back. My break is almost over. I’m lucky they even give me one, so… Thanks for the phone call.”

“Same. Though, I wish I had better news. Hang in there, Dean. The holiday season will be over soon.”

“I will. I’ll call you back tonight after my gig. And you better not answer because you’re out having fun for once,” he said with glee.

“We’ll see.”

“You freaking better.”

“Fine! Bye!”

Dean, walking to his booth, trying not to drag his feet, passed by toys’ department and spotted his friends, Charlie and Jo, looking at the board games.

Not in a talking mood, he simply waved at them and continued his route.

“Dean, wait!” said Jo.

Dean came to halt and let his friends catch up to him. “Sorry, I have to go back.”

“We’ll walk with you a minute,” said Jo. “Are you still good for tonight?”

“Yup. Pam called me Thursday night to double check. She gave me the address and everything. And a reminder of the regulations. I’m trying not to take it personally,” he said, beaming.

“Don’t. She did the same for me too.”

“Thanks again for giving her my name.”

“No problem.”

“You going too, Charlie?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Which sucks. That’s when I had my D&D meet ups.”

“Create a new one, then,” said Jo. “I’ll join.”

Charlie lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t toy with me, Harvelle.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Then Charlie, smiling, said, “You think we can convince this one too,” she said, poking Dean’s chest with her finger.”

“If I had time to have a life,” he said, “I would.”

Charlie squinted at him. “We’ll have to see about that then.” Continuing walking side by side, she asked him, “So, do you like your new position, Dean?”

“I’m not thrilled, but it’s not bad, either. And if I’m honest, it’s certainly an improvement from last year…”

“That wasn’t very hard to beat,” pointed out Charlie, remembering full well as she had been stuck in the same boat as he had.

“True.”

Having reached the booth, Dean pushed the half-door, stepped inside the booth, and approached the counter facing the girls.

“Wait, I thought you were at the Chocolaterie?” said Jo. “That was like perfect for you.”

“Yeah. I agree,” said Dean. “But I switched for the hours.”

“So, who is manning the Chocolaterie now?”

“Meg,” said Charlie. “I saw her this morning.”

“What?” exclaimed Dean. “Oh, man! I didn’t even know she was back.” And he made a face of disgust.

“She’s actually not that bad,” said Charlie.

An opinion that was not, it seemed, overly shared with her friends.

“Not that I care about that kind of stuff, but she always seemed kind of a manipulator to me,” said Jo.

“I don’t trust her,” said Dean simply.

Charlie lifted an eyebrow. “Um, one, you barely trust anyone. And two, I’m pretty sure the main reason why you don’t like her is because you saw her lurking around that guy you had heart-eyes for last year.”

Jo turned briskly towards her. “What’s that now?” A smirk appeared on her face. “What guy?”

“You didn’t know this?” asked Charlie.

“No. What guy?” she repeated.

“No one,” said Dean, busying himself by moving the wrapping paper around, which was utterly unnecessary.

“Not no one,” said Charlie. “Last year, there was this guy—dark hair, killer blue eyes, about yay-high—he was one of those last-minute employees. You know the ones who are brought in within the last few days before Christmas for emergencies, substitution or additional help?”

Jo nodded, understanding and eager to hear the rest.

“Okay, well, last year,” she continued, “Dean and I were elves helping out kids to have their picture taken with Santa. Which was not very far from the Chocolaterie. And this guy showed up just a few days before Christmas for additional help there, and from that moment on, all Dean did was constantly stare at his pretty face.”

“I didn’t constantly stare at him…”

“You didn’t ask him out?” said Jo.

Dean, pursing his lips, let out a deep sigh. “I never got to. As it was the last days before Christmas, I didn’t have one second to myself. I don’t even know his name or even exchanged a few words with him. And I didn’t work here after Christmas. I, um, did stop by the store a few times, but…and since I’ve been back, I tried to find out if anyone knew anything, but I haven’t had much luck so far.”

“I asked around too since they kept me on after Christmas, but nothing,” said Charlie.

“The only one who may have something is Meg and the only thing she had said to me last year was that his name was Clarence and I’m pretty sure it’s a goddamn lie. Hence: I don’t trust her.”

“Uh-huh. Were they a thing?” asked Jo to Charlie. “‘Clarence’ and Meg, I mean.”

“Who knows?” said Charlie. “It’s possible. I think Meg was the only one who got to interact with him. But he didn’t stay around for that long and I haven’t heard anything suggesting that either. The guy’s a mystery.”

Frowning, something was still bothering Jo. “Why not ask Rowena? If anyone knows who he is, it would be her, no?”

But Dean and Charlie shook their heads. “Rowena wasn’t here last year, remember? It was that atrocious-ass Adler.”

“Right. I think I had repressed that,” she said with a grim face. “Still, there has to be a way to find out. A record or something?”

But Dean was officially done with the subject. “Whatever,” he shrugged. “It’s not like my life depends on it. It was, like, one guy. Who may or may not have been good-looking. From afar. Whatever.”

Charlie and Jo exchanged devious looks.

Ones that made Dean roll his eyes. He waved them goodbye, as he knew they both needed to head back to their own departments, and watched them stroll down the aisle.

And so, left by himself, and with no customers in sight (for him, at the very least), just as he had told Sam, Dean pulled up a chair, sat down and…waited.

Attempting to seem alert and ready to help.

And not appear overly depressed at doing nothing.

At least it’s not complicated and it certainly beats dealing with rude customers.

On the other hand, killing time by staring in front of him blankly felt like a waste of time. Even if he was technically earning money while doing it.

But he knew he shouldn’t complain. As Sam had mentioned earlier, soon enough, he would most likely reminisce on the time when he was bored out of his skull.

But being kept in that booth with nothing else to do but to watch the people around him, while he was stuck alone, served as a painful allegory to his life. Everything around him was moving and there he stood, waiting for someone to come to him, while he was expected to just smile as if he was having the time of his life.

And now, the one silver lining he had had for the holidays was apparently gone as well.

No Sammy. No traditional cookies. And no making fun of old Christmas movies, while eating junk food and drinking eggnog.

They had never spent Christmas apart before. Even when Sam had been away at college. Even when either of them had been in a serious relationship (though that had mostly been Sam’s case, not Dean’s), they had still celebrated the holidays together.

No matter what. That was their thing.

And now he would have to spend it on his own.

Alone.

Assuming he would survive the crazy amount of workload awaiting him in December.

And not be driven mad by this infuriating Christmas music.

Awesome.

I hate my life.

“Hello.”

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. A hand over his heart, he turned to his left only to realize someone was standing next to him.

In the booth.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was told to join you today.”

Regaining his composure, Dean said, “Cool. Um, the place has been pretty de—”

And the rest of his sentence died in his throat, the moment his eyes fell on his new co-worker.

Dark hair.

Killer blue eyes.

About yay-high.

It’s him.

And he’s here.

With me.

At the freaking booth.

Dean gawked at him.

Chapped lips.

Stubble beard.

And a deep voice that—

And all I’ve been doing is staring at him like a complete moron.

“Hi!” Dean nearly yelled, waving his hand.

Stop now.

And he immediately dropped his hand.

“Hello,” the man repeated.

“Dean,” said Dean, pointing at himself.

“Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel. Nice to meet you.”

Castiel.

“Um, same. Hi, Castiel.”

And he smiled at him like an idiot.

--End of Chapter One----

Read Chapter Two and the rest of the fic on AO3 :)

#spnpetra #spn fic #xmas fic #advent calendar #destiel fluff #sabriel fanfic #my fanfic #christmas shopping #spn xmas

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jbbarnesandnoble · 5 years

Text

Forever and Always: Part 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to date, until someone got in between you two. After a year without seeing him, he pops up in your life again, and old feelings with him?Harsh words can never taken back, but can they be forgiven?

Chapter Summary: Christmas Eve/Day, New Year’s Eve

Word Count: 2,131

Warnings: Things are gonna get super messy from here on out:)

A/N: Y/N/N stands for, Your nickname. Sorry for the delay, my brother came from Australia to visit for 3 weeks -he actually leaves today, so I’m not sure when I’ll see him next- and my older sister came from Florida for a few days. So we had a family reunion. Which is why I haven’t been working on F&A. Please leave some feed back, I love to know what you all are thinking. If you want me to tag you in this series feel free to let me know!

Christmas Eve

Back when you were in college you started a tradition where every Christmas Eve you would bake cookies for all of your close friends and family members.

Slowly that small tradition turned into something much bigger. You started baking cookies for your neighbors, co-workers, even your mail man Happy

His real name is Harold, you call him Happy because he always seems to be so happy whenever you see him.

At six-thirty you decide to start baking. Natasha went out with Clint to pick up some last minute things for tomorrow. You take advantage of having the place to yourself, playing your music at full volume. After gathering all the necessary ingredients and items you’ll need, you put on your favorite apron. It’s the one Bucky got you, as soon as he found out your love for baking he practically ran out of his house to get it for you. He told you that he thought the 1940′s style suited you. You weren’t quite sure what that meant, but you couldn’t deny how sweet the gesture was.

A while later you’re dancing around singing at the top of your lungs, using a spoon covered in cookie batter as your microphone. Which is probably why you didn’t notice Nat come home. Or when she called out your name.

“Did you start the Christmas Cookie festivities without me?” Nat manages to yell over the music. Her sudden appearance makes you jump.

“My gosh woman, maybe try a warning next time.” you place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down after experiencing a near heart attack.

“Maybe try turning your music down next time, and I did. I called your name like three times." she sasses you back, placing a hand on her hip

“Oh... Sorry.”

“I can’t believe you would start baking without me.” ignoring your apology she makes her way towards the kitchen counter.

“I didn’t know when you would be home and I didn’t feel up to baking at 2-am.” which was true, but you also prefer baking alone. You can do it at your own pace and you don’t have to worry about the other person asking you what to do. Plus it helps to calm your nerves.

“Well, I’m back now. Put me to work Y/N/N.” her red lips spread into an effortlessly beautiful smile. You baked a decent amount of the cookies already. You only have a few batches left to make. While Nat works on make more batter, you start decorating a few of the cooled cookies.

After all of the cookies have cooled and been decorated Nat helps you assemble the cookie bags

“I think we’ve outdone ourselves this year, Y/L/N.” Nat licks a bit of frosting off her index finger.

“I think you’re right, Romanoff.” You say with a smile

Christmas Day

You spend the day running from place to place, spending most of the morning with your family. Then meeting up with Bucky and Sam before going to Steve and Peggy’s place for a bit. Afterwards you stop by Wanda’s small apartment located directly above her jewelry store to drop off her present. You didn’t stay long, seeing as her brother is in town for the holidays and you didn’t want to be in the way of their time together.

After a long day you’re happy to relax home, Nat spent the day with Clint and his family. You say hi to him briefly when he drops her off.

“Are you ready for the real Christmas festivities to begin?” Nat says with a sly smile. You know she can only mean one thing.

“If you mean, Christmas pajamas, Eggnog, cookies, and binge watching cheesy Christmas Rom-Coms? Then of course I am!” You both let out an excited squeal. The two of you have had the same Christmas tradition for as long as you can remember. It has always been your favorite part of the whole holiday.

“You get the food I’ll set up the movies.” Nat says a bit too excitedly

You spend the rest of your night happily watching movies and eating junk food while spending time with one of your best friends.

New Year’s Eve

You wake up slowly already regretting tonight. You have no reason to be anticipating the worst. You have no reason to. Yet for some reason you have it in your mind that something is going to get wrong.

You told Nat, Wanda, and Peggy that you've been dreading this night since you agreed to it and have no idea why. Tonight isn’t meant to be making you stress so much. In fact, it’s meant to be quiet the opposite, nothing more than a fun night with your friends. The three of them agreed that you were just being paranoid and that you have no reason to be worrying. But somehow that only made you feel worse.

"What could possibly go wrong?" You think, trying to reassure yourself. Even though you know that is the last question you should be asking yourself. Because once you ask that, every possible thing that could go wrong, goes wrong.

You’ve spent the last few hours trying on different outfits only to rip them back off and throw them onto the mountain of clothes that is taking over your bed. You plop onto your it with a tired huff.

If Nat were here she would help you pick an outfit no problem. But alas she’s not, she went out with Clint this morning and told you that she would meet you at the party later on.

The thought of canceling crosses your mind a couple of times, but is quickly replaced with the picture of Bucky smiling brightly at you when you first agreed to go that day in the coffee shop.

You sit up with an aggravated huff. Looking around your messy room you finally decide it’s not worth stressing over and grab a plain black dress from the top of the clothing pile on your bed.

After a quick shower, you get dressed and apply a bit of makeup. Once you’re ready you begrudgingly leave the comfort of your small New York apartment.

An hour later you find yourself sitting in your car outside of Bucky's apartment building. After giving yourself a bit of a prep talk you head inside, making your way for the small elevator.

Getting inside you press the small button that'll take you to his floor. You stand there watching the floor numbers getting higher and higher, your anxiety growing with each floor. When you finally reach his floor you slowly make your way towards his apartment.

Even though it's been over a year since you've been to his place you still know the building like the back of your hand.

You're about to turn down his hallway, but stop short when you hear loud footsteps thumping down the hallway. You turn around to see Sam with a crooked smile planted on his face.

"Hey Y/N!" you give Sam a knowing head nod and smile.Without missing a beat you fist bump as he walks up to you.

You exchange pleasantries before you continue on your way, walking together.

Without knocking Sam leads you inside Bucky's apartment. As soon as you step inside a wave of old forgotten memories and nostalgia washes over you. You're too busy looking around to notice Sam left your side to say hi to everyone in the living area.

You only seem to notice the loud music and all of your friends sitting around laughing when Clint calls you over. You smile to everyone before taking a seat on the couch next to Wanda.

As soon as you take your seat you notice someone missing from the group. Looking around you lean closer to Wanda.

"Where's Buck?" You whisper, the question being for Wanda's ears only. She doesn't answer you, only nodding towards the kitchen. You offer her a small smile before sneaking off.

Slowly you open the door to the kitchen to reveal Bucky working on some last minute preparations for tonight. He has always been a perfectionist when it comes to hosting a party, even when it's as small as it is today. Everything has to be perfect.

You don't want to ruin this moment by walking inside the kitchen, instead you chose to lean on the door frame, watching Bucky work intently.

"Hey." You say quietly, smiling at him. If your sudden presence scared him he doesn't show it. Instead he grins at you.

"Hey Y/N."

"What's so important that it demands your attention. While your friend are having fun without you in the other room." You ask walking over to him

"That's a secret." Bucky says with an easy smile and wink. Even though he's smiling you can always tell when something is bothering him.

"What's wrong Buck?" You ask him softly putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with doll." He tries to give you a reassuring smile, but you can see the worry behind it.

"Is it your dad again?" For as long as you have known James Barnes his dad has had health issues. Whenever he falls ill Bucky has to take charge of the company, putting more stress on him than he already has.

Bucky has always been the type to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, no matter what he's going through. And if he was ever offered the world? He would refuse it.

He gives you another small smile -sad this time- and a weak nod.

Without another word you place your hand on his shoulder and offer him a small reassuring smile in return.

You're all out in the living room when a few more of Bucky’s friends arrive. You remember a few of them from previous parties and company events that Bucky invited you to.

"Hey Y/N, wanna get a refill with me?" Nat shakes the ice in her empty glass. She exchanges a strange look with Peggy and Wanda. Before you agree, even though your glass is still full.

"Haha, what's going on? You girls are making me nervous." You know you didn't have to add the last part, they can clearly tell you're concerned from how you’re acting.

"Y/N, Natasha and I have something to tell you." Peggy's words are gentle and slow.

"Go ahead Nat, tell her what you told me." Wanda puts her hand on Nat's.

"As you know, Bucky is in a relationship." She starts slowly.

"The other day -on our way to drop some things off here- Peg and I accidentally overheard a... strange conversation."

"It was a man and a woman. The man seemed to be frustrated about something, he even gave her a deadline." Peggy adds

"He said something about not getting the money fast enough, that whatever it is their planning, it shouldn't be taking this long." Nat looks at Peggy, hoping she'll fill you in on some of the blanks.

"From what we could understand, we assume that these people were lying and manipulating some poor soul for his money."

"Wait, what does this have to do with me and Bucky and his girlfriend?" The last part comes out just above a whisper, realizing what they’re trying to say.They must hear the worry in your voice, because they all step closer to you. Placing their hands on your shoulders.

“You don’t mean...” The next words don’t leave your mouth, you can’t bring yourself to say it. Luckily you don’t have to.

"We were going to just ignore what we overheard... that was before we heard the woman speak..." Nat stops, the words disappearing from her mouth. She can't seem bring herself to say the nasty part either.

"Y/N, It was Bucky's girlfriend." To your surprise it’s Wanda who speaks this time.

"We think she's using James for his money. We don't have any solid proof. But from their conversation her intentions seem pretty clear.” Peggy adds, you look into her bright brown eyes. You don’t miss the hint of pity or sadness in them, though you pretend you did. You look at your friends, the shock and fear evident on your face. You don’t bother hiding your emotions, you’re comfortable enough around them to be yourself.

“W-what?” Your voice comes out barely a whisper. You aren’t sure what to do, heck, you can barely process what they just told you. You can only think of one thing, of one person. I have to tell him. Plays over and over in you mind before you speak.

“I have to tell him, I have to tell Bucky.” this time your voice and eyes are full of determination.

Part 7

Tag List: @justreadingfics @soopranatural @invisibleanonymousmonsters @bloodyproudpotterhead @marvelsbangtan @void-imaginations @ladifreakingda @the-canary @taliarosej00

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jack-kellys · 5 years

Text

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE DAAAAAY!!!

here's a fic for the holidays that will make up for @suddenly-im-respecsable's and @papesdontsellthemselves's angst

———

a snow party for the rest of our lives

words: 1800ish a bit more

warnings: cursing, nsfw jokes, its race guys

———

“Can we open any?”

“No.”

“Pleeease?”

“Race, you are a grown-ass man and you still use that tone with me?”

Albert slumped forward as he felt Race drape himself across his back with a long sigh.

“Albie, how am I not supposed to think about presents for an entire day?” Race asked, fitting his chin in the crook of Albert’s shoulders.

“Well,” Albert considered, bringing Race’s arms around his stomach. “Know how it snowed last night?”

He felt Race nod, his gold curls tickling his neck.

“You know how a lot of people are away or inside, too?”

Race nodded again.

“Then do you wanna…have a snow party in Central Park?” Al smirked.

Race let out a long gasp at the prospect, making Al laugh. Exactly the reaction he wanted from Race.

“Uh how about abso-fuckin-lutely?” Race beamed. “Acting like we’re ten years old on Christmas Eve day is an immediate yes.”

Albert kissed Race’s temple, then hooked his hands under Race’s legs and hoisted him onto his back, making Race laugh—and Albert’s heart melt—and kiss the back of Albert’s neck as he carried them to their room. He dumped Race on their bed and went to his dresser, pulling out clothes for Race.

“I can pick my own shit, Al, what,” Race laughed.

“No, you can’t, cause you never put enough on, and I’m not letting you get frostbite,” Albert countered. Race shrugged in agreement, putting on what Albert picked as Al went to go get changed himself.

Soon enough, the two were both bundled up and ready to go. Albert couldn’t stop smiling at Race, with his soft blue scarf matching his eyes like that.

“You look adorable,” Albert said, rather shyly. Race blushed, leaning down the slightest amount to kiss Al’s forehead.

“So do you, beanie boy. Now let’s go!”

•••

Race practically pranced around the streets as it started to snow again, spinning whenever there was enough space on the sidewalk. Albert couldn’t stop smiling—Race had this special naivety about some things that made something in Albert’s chest bubble with happiness. He couldn’t imagine never feeling that way again.

“Albie, c’mon! We’re almost there,” Race grinned behind himself, practically skipping the last steps into the park.

“I know this was my own idea, but Jesus, man, you’re like, five,” Al huffed.

“No, I’m twenty-five and having a good fucking time! You should try it,” Race said with a cheeky smile, making Albert roll his eyes.

They walked a few steps inside, taking in the trees laced with white, the air filled with the silent beauty of snow.

“I forgot how amazing it was this time of year,” Race breathed, a serene expression on his already pale face, eyelashes adorned with snowflakes.

Albert’s eyes were only on Race, watching his excitement with a full heart. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, really amazing…” he said softly.

And just like that, the moment was over, Race looking at Albert with mischief in his eyes. “Do you wanna build a-“

“Yes, but no singing that or I’ll literally punch you so hard you’ll miss Christmas,” Albert said with a straight face, zipping up his pockets so nothing would come out of them. Race gave a singular nod in return, his lips pressed together before laughing. He knelt down to the snow, packing a small snowball and then rolling it to accumulate its size.

“You do the bottom one. I ain’t into that heavy shit,” Race said, presumably working on the middle.

“Yes you are. You’re only like thirty pounds behind me on the bench press,” Albert deadpanned, starting on the bottom anyway.

“Shush, babe.”

They continued their snowman, laughing as their proportions were way off.

“Oh, no,” Race gasped, “we don’t have anything to put on him!”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Albert said, dejectedly taking his beanie off and placing it on the snowman. Race removed his scarf in solidarity, wrapping it carefully around their creation.

“Our son’s all grown up. He’s come so far from just being the bottom,” Albert said, wiping a fake tear away.

Race smirked. “So have you,” he snickered, making Albert’s jaw drop before his face went red.

“The worst part,” Albert growled, “is how fucking good that was.”

“Haha, that’s what I say whenever you to—“

Race didn't get to finish his dirty sentence because Albert tackled him into the snow after screaming “you little shit!”

Albert leaned over Race, Race’s eyes scrunched closed. He blinked one open.

“‘The worst part,’” he mocked, “‘is how fucking good this is.’”

Albert was in a state of shock. “I literally—oh my god, we’re not gonna fuck in Central Park,” he groaned.

“Yeah, but I’m on fire today, ain’t I?” Race smirked. Albert slowly returned it, an idea forming in his head.

“Fire, huh?” he said, gathering some snow in his hand. “Better cool you off then.” Then, he dropped it directly on Race’s face without any sign of emotion.

Race immediately shrieked, swiping it off of him as Albert burst out laughing, only to earn him a wad of snow in his face as well, his nose quickly feeling like it was going to freeze and fall off his face. Albert scrambled off of Race a good distance, packing a snowball and chucking it at where Race still lay. It broke apart on Race’s stomach, making the other boy sit up with a furious expression. Albert nervously started making another one. Race’s wrath was quite terrifying. His own would be, too, if he didn’t show it so often. Race’s was almost secret. Albert scootched himself backwards, throwing another one at Race. He dodged it, now coming towards Albert, who froze mid-backward crabwalk, resting on his arms as he watched Race storm towards him, snow whipping around his icy eyes. Al stared at his stomach as Race put his boot on it, pushing Albert into the ground with a small “ouff.”

Race leaned down. “This is so nostalgic. Just like old times, if ya catch my drift.”

Albert rolled his eyes. “There is no way you ain’t happy when I top,” he said, resting his hands behind his head with a sly smile.

“You cocky bastard,” Race shook his head, taking his foot off of Albert, who took it as an invitation to sit up. “Nope,” Race said simply, kneeling and pushing him back down, meeting his lips with his own.

Albert wanted to resist it. He really did. He was cold, and in the snow, and his face was still wet from the snow Race had pressed into it.

But he kissed back anyway, hands coming away from his head and moving to Race’s cheeks, immediately feeling warmer. Albert felt Race’s hand sneak up his side, and rushed to meet it with his own before it could reach his pocket.

“Race,” he muttered around Race’s mouth, “I already said we cannot fuck in Central Park.”

“Not my fault you get hot in the wrong scenarios,” Race hummed.

Albert thought back to Thanksgiving at Katherine’s house. Whoops.

“Well, it is a little your fault,” Al shrugged, pulling his lips away from Race’s.

“Not my fault you can’t resist meeeee—“

Albert sat up and heaved Race over his shoulder, then stood, grabbing their belongings from their snowman.

“Fuck you, man,” Race said, banging Albert’s back with his fist.

“Yeah, y’ clearly wanted to, which is why we’re getting a coffee break. Cause of your bad behavior,” Al retorted. Race kept whining as Albert took them to a nearby Starbucks.

Finally they were settled with their respective drinks, Albert blowing on his hot chocolate while Race sipped his white chocolate mocha, Al rolling his eyes.

“Ain’t that practically just warm milk?” he scoffed.

“Ain’t yours?” Race retorted.

“Fuck off.”

They ended up talking until it was dark, which was no big surprise. They always found something to talk about.

“Shit! We have to go skating!” Al said suddenly, standing up.

Race followed suit. “Have to?” He cocked his head.

“Yes,” was all Albert said, offering his hand to Race as they threw out their cups and left.

“Alright, well, we going back to the park or try Rockefeller?” Race asked, Albert thanking the heavens he had dropped his inquiry.

“I was thinking back to the park. Not as many people,” he shrugged.

“Sounds good!” Race smiled, swinging their hands.

They made it back to the park, finding the rink all set up with lights The ice glowed against the dark, making Albert smile.

“Haven’t been skating in a while, have we?” Albert murmured. “Kinda wild, considering….the entirety of high school.”

“Let’s make up for it then. You go really fast the whole time using your hockey skills and I will only spin the whole time,” Race said, effectively making Albert laugh.

The moment they got on the ice, though, it was like someone hit a switch.

They started out slowly, holding hands and gliding along, but quietly. The earlier jokes and name calling was gone. Albert felt like they were the only two people in the ice, like it was a performance—a dance between them, everyone else only watching, not skating along. Race turned inward, resting his hands on Albert’s shoulders and skating backwards as Albert placed his hands on Race’s hips. Race was smiling, a small but sentimental quirk of his lips that sent Albert’s heart reeling.

“You look really perfect, Tonio,” he breathed, blushing slightly.

Race’s smile widened. “So do you, Albie.” He pressed a soft kiss to Albert’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

Soon enough, their time was done, and they had to get off the ice for the next group.

“That was so perfect, babe,” Race beamed. “Best Christmas Eve ever!” He unlaced the skates quickly, putting his boots back on and standing up. “But I am so ready for blankets, holy shit.”

Albert grinned, his heart hammering in his chest as he stood up as well. “Me too. Let’s go home.”

They walked through the park again, the path still snowy, Race rambling about how much fun he had today, but Albert stopped walking.

“Oh my god, Al, and then we—Al?” he stopped to, turning around. He gasped, his hands over his mouth. “Oh my god…”

Albert was kneeling, a knee in the cold snow, and pulled a black box out of his now unzipped coat pocket.

“Hey,” he said.

“H-hey,” Race laughed, gesturing for Albert to continue. Albert took a shaky breath.

“You know that I’ve loved you since we were fifteen. You even called me out on it, scaring the shit out of me until you kissed me. And then I knew it’d be fine, y’know? Cause you were by best friend. You are my best friend. And I know it’ll be fine—well, more than fine, the best, actually—if I could spend the rest of my life with you. I want to so bad, Antonio. I can’t spend my life without my best friend. So...Sunshine, w-will you marry me?”

He swiped at his own tears as he looked at Race’s face, tears streaming from his as well. Race nodded, coming down to where Albert was kneeling.

“Yes, oh my fucking god, a thousand times yes!” he cried, throwing his arms around Al, enveloping his lips in a passionate kiss. Albert kissed back, arms tight around Race's back as they crashed backward into the snow. They laid there for a moment, giggling and crying, until Race asked, "wait, shit what's the ring look like?" Albert laughed, sitting them up and actually opening the box. Inside was a silver band with tiny yellow gems circling in the middle.

"Yellow?" Race smiled. Albert blushed, looking shy.

"You're my sunshine, babe."

Race hugged him tighter. "Jesus fuck, I love you so much!"

They walked home arm and arm, a new accessory on Race's finger.

#ILL REBLOG WITH THE TAGLIST ONE SECOND #newsies #albert dasilva #racetrack higgins #ralbert #newsies fics #my writing #fizz freaks #fizz wants to write

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notyourmothersplaylist · 5 years

Text

England’s Forgotten Club Kids: The Rum Runner

There’s a lot to be said about the Club Kids of the 1980/1990s. Too much for films, documentaries, books, and certainly too much for a short blog post that’ll certainly be more photos than words. Simply put, the true ‘Club Kids’ were a group of misfits in the late 80s/90s who f*cked up New York City. There were so many I can’t name them, and they liked drugs, electronic music, and the scene culminated in a grisly murder of one of their own, by one of their own.

Before them, however, there were the Blitz Kids in London—named for the Blitz Club, where Boy George was a cloak attendant and Spandau Ballet was the house band—and the new-romantics who frequented the Rum Runner just short 2-hour train north in Birmingham, where the boys of Duran Duran were bussing tables at 8 and took the stage by 10. There’s quite an amount of literature on the Blitz Club, but not as much on the Rum Runner; so for the first post in a vintage club series I may never finish, let’s take a look at the history of Birmingham’s Rum Runner and some of its most exciting patrons.

The Rum Runner was a casino before Paul and Michael Berrow, the two sons of the club’s original founder, renovated the place after a particularly exciting trip to New York City wherein they visited Studio 54 (Brits may not admit it all that often, but they’re kinda obsessed with America, in the same way Americans are obsessed with Brits). The Berrows wallpapered the place with mirrored glass resembling of what it might look like to step inside a disco ball, painted any other visible walls black, and opened the doors with visions of David Bowie dancing in their heads (they hosted club nights spotlighting tunes from Roxy Music, Chic, Bowie, and many other glam rock giants, which attracted all the coolest kids in Birmingham, naturally). In 1978, cool kids Nicholas Bates and Nigel Taylor (who would then become Nick Rhodes and John Taylor) handed the Berrows a demo tape for their fledgling band Duran Duran and the rest is history; they held auditions until D-Squared became a full-fledged band with a guitarist and everything, and the Berrows became their managers.

Guitarist Andy Taylor recounts many interesting things in his book “Wild Boy” (a fantastic read) about the Rum Runner. He writes about working with the Berrows, helping maintain the interior of the club by polishing the mirrors, touching up paint, and whipping up burgers in the kitchen in exchange for free rehearsal space. He talks about the wild behavior of the club-goers—how flamboyantly they dressed, how they acted like rules and behavior norms didn’t apply, and how sex, drugs, and glam rock were paramount. He also talks about the aptly named ‘Sex Offender’s Room’ (“People weren’t politically correct, then”, he writes), where the Durans and the Berrows dragged in a nice fluffy bed in a vacant corner…and then would purposefully walk in on one another when they were enjoying the, uh, intimate company of their guests.

Yeah, they truly did that.

(All-around handyman Andy Taylor, busboy Roger Taylor, and deejay Nick Rhodes, from the Rum Runner Facebook page)

Another thing they did is run their official Fan Club upstairs from the f*ck room in the club they also worked at. I can confirm this because I have the card to prove it:

(Yes, this is a hand-me-down from my Duranie Aunt, and now something that is in my possession and that I cherish dearly).

Through the years, Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Ub40 and the English Beat would also become regulars there, amongst others, and the English Beat would go on to film their video for “Mirror in the Bathroom” with the Rum Runner as the setting, aptly named for the mirrors that swallowed the entire club (these are some of the best interior shots of the club I’ve seen, and the song is a killer ska jam!). The Berrows would go on to manage Duran Duran until the mid ‘80s, just before the release of 1986’s Notorious. The Rum Runner would also face its final curtain in 1986, where they hosted a ‘Demolition Party’ before the club closed for good, and now a Hyatt hotel stands on its former grounds on Broad St (so don’t go looking for it).

The Rum Runner held happy memories for many. Jeremy Green writes on an old Duran video showcasing clips from the club about one of his contemporaries, Gay John (who was a prolific member of the new romantic scene/gay community in Birmingham, more on him later): “I remember one night Gay John went around The Rum Runner Club sticking his vibrator in people's drinks.. Fun times. :p :p :P” (Gay John sounds like fun. Where is Gay John now?). Keith Hill, probably also a dude from Birmingham, writes “Had my 21st Birthday party here...how cool is that?...I believe John Taylor was seen there, love to say I invited him, but maybe cooler to say…he crashed my party! Hiding in barrels, dodgy goings on in barrels…& the toilets of course, the multi sexual toilets.”

What he might have meant was, there was a unisex area where men and women could apply makeup at the club, but he also...could have meant other things.

In fact, he most certainly also meant other things, if Andy’s accounts of the club’s wild party-goers are to be trusted. Also, there were barrels. Was this place even real?

A patron named Rob goes on to write he met his wife at the Rum Runner, and now they’ve got grown children, which is a fun and unnecessary fact to share, I suppose, but the internet is full of that; Andy Taylor also claims to have spent much time with his then-girlfriend-current-wife Tracey there, as well (seriously, they’ve been married for ages, which is incredibly sweet), even asking her to be his wife after throwing back one too many drinks within the mirrored walls. For a joint with a f*ck room, the place seems pretty damn wholesome.

(He also did cocaine there on Christmas Eve, though, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves.)

Going back to Gay John, though-- I’ve grown incredibly obsessed with him in the short time I’ve been researching the Rum Runner and I’d love to find more information on him. Gay John is almost always mentioned in reminiscent comments by the old Rum Runner club-goers on chat boards/comment spaces, although only by means of a sentence or passing mention; that being said, video footage of Gay John does exist, as he’s featured in Duran Duran’s Planet Earth video doing the ‘New Romantic Shuffle’ with fellow Brummie clubgoer who went by the name ‘Lavinya’.

(Who’s who? I can’t even say.)

Gay John was, as you might guess, a member of the gay community in Birmingham who worked with many drag artists and was also apparently involved in the Rocky Horror community; he also owned a strip-club called the Tin Can in Birmingham’s Digbeth area, where glam/goth tyrants like Sisters of Mercy, the Jesus and Mary Chain and Flesh for Lulu would go on to play. Apparently someone died there during a show, though, so who’s to say what really happened there or when it closed (nobody’s said anything otherwise, so I’m guessing it’s closed). If anyone has information on the Tin Can Club or Gay John, please let me know!

I’ve not got much else to say other than the internet was kind to me when I started searching for Rum Runner lore, and it sounds like a fantastic place to have frequented in its day. It might not be the Limelight or the Blitz, but for a bunch of working-class kids, it was a place of decadence and self-indulgence. Because we can’t see it for ourselves, I’ll try to paint a picture as best I can for you to the tune of the Rum Runner Playlist, with songs hand-picked by resident DJ Nick Rhodes to evoke memories of when he was still pressed for cash and most likely dying his own hair.

All photos below will be credited to their owners as best I can. Enjoy!

Sources: The Guardian, Carpenter & Joiner, Birmingham_81 on Twitter, BirminghamLive / a second article from BirminghamLive, Duran Duran Wiki, Shapers of the 80′s, Gay Birmingham Remembered, Birmingham Music Archive, John Taylor’s and Andy Taylor’s books, and last but certainly not least, the community-run Facebook page for the Rum Runner

#duran duran #my content #1980s #rum runner #new romantic #club kids

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better-inwriting · 5 years

Text

When You Love Someone

Ahh more Newsies because what else would I write. Enjoy this fluff/angst RedFinch

**********************************************

Finch wasn't surprised to find the door to his apartment unlocked. Albert had a key and always forgot to relock the door behind him. Finch would have to lecture his boyfriend once again on the dangers of living in New York City and about being cautious.

He had his speech all prepared until he entered the apartment and heard muffled crying from the bedroom. Carefully and quietly, he hung his keys on the rack and kicked off his shoes.

He cautiously entered the bedroom where Albert was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, crying and breathing heavily. He looked up when Finch entered the room and quickly tried to look like all was well. He even plastered a painfully fake smile on his face as Finch closes the door and sat next to him.

“Hey, babe, you're back early,” Albert said in a choked, strained voice.

“Al, what is going on?” Finch asked. He tried to wipe away Albert's tears, but he flinched away.

“Nothing! Nothing is going - I'm fine,” Albert said defensively, standing up from the bed and wiping at his eyes again. “All good.”

Finch stayed seated to give Albert room to freak out. Normally when Albert gets anxious he needs some space to cool down, but this is different. He had never seen this side of Albert before - panicky and sad. There was almost a look of fear in his eyes. It made Finch's stomach twist to see his boyfriend like this.

“Albert,” Finch continued quietly, “we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”

Albert shrugged. “There's nothing to talk about.”

Finch only nodded and reached out a hand that Albert reluctantly took. Finch gently coaxed him back to a sitting position beside him and kept a firm but gentle grip on his hand.

“How were your classes today? You had an exam, right? You were worried about it,” Finch tried changing the subject instead.

Albert sighed, “Yeah and i didn't really prepare for it so I know I'm going to get a bad grade. If my parents find out we're going to get into a big fight. They're trying to convince me to leave New York.”

“Wait, what? They want you to move back to Rhode Island? That's ridiculous! You're friends, your dreams, it's all in New York,” Finch said quickly, feeling overwhelmed by this new information. “How long have they been saying this?”

“A month or so,” Albert shrugged. He turned his gaze to he and Finch's locked hands when he continued, “I think they might be right, Finch. All I've ever wanted to do is dance, but I can't land a gig to save my life. That was the whole point in coming here and now-” He cut himself off as his voice got tight again.

“Just because you didn't get it yet doesn't mean you won't,” Finch said. “It takes time. Look at how long it took Jack to get anyone to take his art seriously. And Race hasn't officially landed anything yet. You're working hard and you'll get there. Besides what is there for you in Rhode Island?”

“My parents-”

“Who have hardly spoken to you since you came out,” Finch interrupted.

“They said they want to talk things over,” Albert said, quieter still.

“Only because they know I can't follow you there,” Finch said, though it seemed a bit too dramatic afterwards. Albert's parents didn't even know Finch and they hated him for “turning their son gay” and Finch thinks this is a ruse to get Albert to leave him for a woman.

“They aren't as awful as you think,” Albert suddenly snapped, yanking his hand away from Finch's. “They just want what's best for me. They want me to be happy.”

Finch is taken aback by Albert's support of his parents. In the two years they had known each other, including 18 months of dating, Albert rarely had a nice thing to say about his parents or his hometown. Where was all this coming from?

“Are you not happy?” Finch asked softly, feeling at fault.

Albert was quiet for a beat. “I don't know. I should be, right? I have school, and friends, and dance, and you.” Albert paused as the tears started flowing again. “This just isn't going how I planned and I'm wondering if I should have just stayed in Rhode Island. If I had never come to New York-”

Finch stood up and interrupted, “You never would have started taking dancing seriously or considered it a career. You never would have meet Race or Jack. You never would have tried Thai food.” He paused. “You never would have come out.”

Albert looked away and wiped his eyes again.

“Your parents love you and want the best for you, but they don't know what you've got going here. They don't know this new you that was bred from the city,” Finch continued. “Albert, you auditioned for NYU's dance program on a whim and got major scholarships for it. Now I watch you dance and I can see how happy and passionate you are about it. You light up and it's so contagious. If you never did that, you would be working in the bakery with your parents and you would have given up dancing.”

Albert was quiet for a long time and Finch was sure he wasn't going to get anywhere with him. Then Albert said, “They had a Facebook page to connect you to other people in your field. That's how I met Race. He was a blond twink from Brooklyn who talked to me like he'd known me all my life. Then he invited me to the city for a whole week before our first semester. I slept on the couch of his apartment that he shared with his boyfriend, Spot. They were the first gay people I ever knew. They made me wonder about myself.”

Finch nodded. “And on that first night in the city, Race and Spot brought you to the coffee shop/karaoke bar we always hung out at. That's when we met.”

“I was so scared to talk to you,” Albert chuckled. “I kept asking Race questions about you and then he finally called you over, introduced us, and walked away.”

“And we spent the whole night dancing and talking,” Finch finished. “Two weeks later-”

“We kissed on the Brooklyn Bridge,” Albert said with a smile. “It was the best kiss I'd ever had, but I was still trying to figure out my sexuality, so I told you I wasn't ready for a relationship.”

“I told you that I understood, but it actually kind of broke my heart. I really liked you and I said all this to Race-”

“Who said it all to me,” Albert sighed. “School started and we got so busy we hardly saw each other.”

“Until Davey's Christmas party on December 14th,” Finch said. “We kissed again under the mistletoe and you were so flustered by it that you dragged me into the bathroom by my shirt collar and proceeded to kiss me for another half hour.”

Albert laughed, “Poor Elmer did not need to see that.” Finch laughed too. “I told you I was ready and asked you to be my boyfriend. When I went home for Christmas break a week later I told my parents the truth. We fought about it.”

“You called me crying on Christmas Eve because your grandmother told your aunt she didn't want you at the party,” Finch said. “So you left the party early and when you were alone we had our first sexual encounter.”

“Phone sex, Finch. We had phone sex,” The bluntness of the comment makes them both laugh. “I wasn't supposed to come back to New York until January, but I was fighting so much with my family and I missed you, so I flew back on the 27th.”

“I was at Race's and we were hammered. I screamed like a rich girl in a rom-com when you came in. I was so happy to see you,” Finch said. “Then we all got drunk and played spin the bottle.”

“And I made out with Race that night.”

“It was awkward,” Finch chuckled. “It was smooth sailing from there, though. Right?”

Albert nodded. “My parents weren't talking to me because I left without telling them goodbye. Race and I started with this amazing dance company which was a lot of fun. I invited my parents to shows but they never came.”

“Then you left me for a ten week tour in the summer,” Finch added feigning offense.

“You survived. You were doing an internship and were way too busy to think about me.”

“On the contrary. Spot got very tired of listening to me whine about missing you,” Finch countered. “Then you two came back and Spot and I didn't speak for weeks.”

Albert sighed, “Then there was the fight.”

“Yeah, the fight.”

“I didn't know it was possible for you to get that mad,” Albert admitted. “It was scary.”

“I never meant to take it out on you,” Finch said, guilt evident in his voice. “I didn't think Striker or any of the group home kids would contact me again and the fact that they had the audacity to bring you into it-”

“I know, Finch,” Albert said. “I was mad that you never told me about that part of your life. I felt like I didn't even know you and then you started lashing out and you were this completely different person. I tried to talk to you, but you would shut down and lock yourself in this room for days.”

“But that lead to me telling you that I loved you,” Finch said positively. “Al, none of that mattered because things were so different from back then. I didn't want you to know that your beloved boyfriend used to be a juvenile delinquent.”

“It didn't change how I felt about you. I still loved you even after I found out about all that,” Albert said. “That's how I knew I always would. Something like that would have sent me running for the hills with any of my prior relationships, but it was different with you. I loved you.”

“Do you remember that art show Jack had at the university?”

“The one where the security guard caught us making out in the bathroom and we got thrown out?” Finch nodded. “Jack wouldn't talk to us for weeks. He was pissed.”

The reminiscing stopped for a moment while they laughed and smiled nostalgically at each other. Then Albert's face grew solemn again.

“Then Race got that callback,” He said. “I was happy for him, but I wanted to catch a break too. We fought about it.”

“You punched their wall,” Finch interrupted.

Albert waved away the input. “That's when all this started, I guess. I was upset and I talked to my parents about it and they started asking me about moving home.”

“What did you tell them?”

He hesitated. “I told them I didn't know.”

Finch nodded and cast his gaze to the floor when he asked, “Are you still happy with me?”

“Of course.”

“But that isn't enough to keep you in New York,” Finch said, sitting back down on the bed.

“I guess I just don't know what kind of future we're looking at,” Albert admitted. “Do you want to get married? Do you want to buy a house and start a family?”

Finch shrugged. “I never gave the matter much thought.”

“I have,” Albert said and sat next to him, taking his hand, “and I want that with you. That's the future I want and if you don't- if you don't see a future with me then maybe I should go back to-”

“I do!” Finch interrupted, turning to face Albert. “If that's what you want then I want it too. I only want you and your happiness means more than anything else. That's what it means to love someone and I love you, Albert Dasilva, so very much.”

Albert smiled, “I love you too.”

They kissed then for several minutes. Then Albert video chatted his parents, introduced them to Finch, and told them he was absolutely not moving back to Rhode Island.

“I want to be here with him,” Albert said. “I'm happy. If you want me to be happy, you'll be supportive of me - of us. Because that's what you do when you love someone.”

#newsies #albert dasilva #finch #sky flaherty #iain young

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

Text

CSUARAGC PRT 11 START

Keith breathed a sigh of relief when Christmas Day was finally over. Krolia had integrated herself in to Lance's family almost seamlessly, spending most of dinner talking with Miriam over the dishes served for dinner. Even before that she'd joined in on the games the kids of Lance's relatives were playing, causing bittersweet feelings to blossom over what he could have had and never had with her. Lance was smiling and laughing, he seemed so much happier then when Keith had left for the afternoon with Krolia as their little group picked into the lunch leftovers, still somewhat stuffed from lunch. She even passed the tick of approval from Lance's grandparents. They'd both liked Keith well enough, giving him a 10 pesos note and a wink like his husband had said they would. Keith even got a pinch on the arse from Lance's grandmother. It'd been years since they'd visited his father's grave, only one since Earth had been liberated and that had been in the early days. Despite the downfall of the Galra, time had slipped through their fingers and they'd wound up leaving his father resting there all alone for far too long. Krolia knew what Christmases had been like due to their time on the space whale, but this was only their second time celebrating the holiday since being reunited. As much as he'd been hurt by Lance insisting that he went off with his mother, he'd needed time with her more than he knew. Maybe it was because it was Christmas that he needed her in a whole other way. Sitting at his father's grave, he felt a little stupid talking to the headstone about Lance and all Lance had done for him... yet, he still promised his father he'd bring his husband to visit soon.

When they finally climbed into bed for the night, Lance was shy as he inched towards him, Keith quick to give the Cuban the reassurance he needed. He had so many questions and no idea where to start, his fingers running along the thin gold chain around his husband's neck. He'd bought it so Lance had somewhere to keep his "wedding ring", that wasn't where his little finger had been. Keith had intended to find hid something more fitting of his lover, yet nothing screamed Lance at him and he wasn't about to settle for second best. He wasn't like Lance. He wasn't sure on his gifts. He didn't know exactly what to buy everything one. Lance had brought joy to their whole family unit with his gifts, Keith had brought rolled eyes with weapon related gifts. He'd bought his husband enough clothes and blankets to last until he was compelled into his next spoil session. He'd picked up various face creams for his husband, but had no idea if Lance liked them already had them. Lance had access to more technology and weaponry than he did. All the really cool things... Leaving him behind all over again.

"I can hear you thinking"

Nuzzling his cheek against Keith's chest, Lance's hand gripping his hip fractionally tighter. He'd seemed so scared in front of Krolia. Lance was trying to hide his emotions but his scent had said it all. The Cuban was shaken and pushing him away, throwing the walls up that Keith had thought they'd broken through

"Who did you call?"

That wasn't the question he was going to ask... It was the question he'd wanted to ask, yet intended to ease into once he figured out what he wanted to say

"My therapist"

That wasn't what he expected. He'd been angry that Lance had chosen to make the phone call rather than come with him and Krolia... those feelings might have passed, but for Lance to call his therapist on Christmas Day

"It's my fault isn't it? Because I left? I didn't..."

"Babe, no"

"You called your therapist..."

He was happy Lance seemed to have found someone... but again, Christmas Day. For Lance it was a special day, for him it brought back the memories of being locked away hungry, or hit for asking for something as small as a glass of water or new pens for school

"I called my therapist because I needed help"

Lance had talked to his therapist maybe twice? Yet he'd turned to them instead of him

"I should have..."

"No"

"You don't even know what I was going to say"

"You were going to say you should have helped. Shiro explained things to me... I thought... I wanted to give you new memories. I know you I can't take your pain away, but I wanted to give you good memories. It was also why I was going to suggest you go out with Shiro for a bit... Seeing your mum made me feel guilty. About me and my past... because your mum like knows. So I called my therapist. Erathus kind of has Christmas, it's not holiday though... I managed to get through, well I had to wait for them to return my call. I wanted to call them when my head was so messed up because I'm still trying to be better. I didn't mean to be rude to your mum"

Lance's honest answer tugged hard on his heart. His husband was trying so hard and he'd dared to be mad. Rubbing his back, he resisted the urge to kiss the top of Lance's head

"I'm really proud of you. Today was... all over the place. I can't believe it was only 24 hours long"

"Christmas is a mission of its own. For the record, I do like your mum. My head went stupid places because I was confused. I shouldn't have acted like that"

"You're fine. I was mad... I didn't get why you didn't come with us, until after we were at dad's grave"

"Christmas is... Christmas isn't always good for people... sometimes it's just another day. I thought you needed your mum, like I needed my mum today. I don't know if that makes sense. I'm really sleepy"

They were all really sleepy. Keith and Lance had both been leaning heavily on each other as they stumbled back to their bedroom. Once again going to kiss Lance's hair, he forced himself to stop all over again

"It was our second Christmas together that I can remember. We didn't do anything on Daibazaal. I think we were both working and didn't realise until after"

"I remember. We had a group call. I missed it, then called you back on Boxing Day so you wouldn't think anything was wrong. I know it's probably awful to say, but I'm glad Hunk and Pidge didn't come today"

Talking of Pidge, he was reminded that she'd sent a present care of Veronica

"Pidge sent a gift. Hunk said he and Shay would be dropping by when they could"

"Do you know what was in that box? It was that damn finger she mentioned... I don't know how to tell her I don't want it"

Lance's mottled left hand didn't bother him. He hated that he'd been hurt the way he had, yet was grateful that they hadn't taken the whole hand. While he didn't hate it, he knew his husband felt differently. That's why it was constantly hidden

"You don't?"

"My hand looks like a freak show as it is, it doesn't need a creepy alien finger attached"

"It doesn't look like a freak show. You don't have to use the finger if you don't want. I love you, either way. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah... I love you too. Let's just go to sleep?"

"Sounds good babe"

"I feel like I could sleep for a phoeb"

"You're not the only on, but I promised dad we'd visit soon"

"I'd like that... mmm, sorry, I'm falling asleep"

"You just sleep. I'm not going anywhere"

"I apologise now for any nightmares"

"Babe, you don't need to apologise"

"Want to... now go to sleep. I'm drooling"

Keith wasn't sure what Lance's drooling had to do with anything, yet with Lance already nearly asleep he didn't ask. They had tomorrow to talk. They had the rest of their lives to talk. Tonight he was going to sleep like the absolute dead.

Keith had no idea how time had passed so fast between Christmas and New Year's Eve. Two days after Christmas their teams had come for a fly out to his old shack, then he and Lance had visited his father's grave from there, yet with that being pretty much they only thing they'd done, somehow the week had vanished before he knew it. There'd been chores to do, Lance proving to be more help than he was as they worked on Jorge's tractor. A new group of aliens came in to work as farmhands for the fruiting junipers, and Kalternecker had escaped her pen, but that was seriously all that happened.

It was alarming how fast he'd grown used to doing next to nothing around the farm. Sure, he pitched in where he could, but it wasn't the same as flying all over the place on missions. All of them were brimming with extra energy. His team taking on training Daehra and Lucteal in protective hand to hand moves. Lance wasn't allowed to join given he had a seizure out of nowhere in the middle of the night, then another the following morning. His husband assured him he was fine, if not sleepy, Daehra forced awake in the middle of the night to run scans on the stubborn Cuban. Her best guess was it was the release of stress now that Christmas had passed, coupled with Lance messing with his medication schedule. All Keith could be grateful for was that neither seizure had happened at the house, and that they hadn't been caused by Lance overdosing. Christmas had been shaky in the middle, but looking back on it, he'd never felt as happy, loved or content as he had on the day itself. Lance had a slightly different view though, thanks to his anxieties, which was hard on both of them as his husband took all of Boxing Day to truly bounce back from the previous day. He hadn't wanted to leave their bed, tearfully apologising for his depression. He loved his husband and loved the fact he'd tried so hard for the sake of everyone there, so they'd spent the day tangled up in their blankets together, Keith placing his game while Lance alternated between napping and simply watching him play, occasionally throwing in a suggestion when Keith got stuck, but for the most part he let the half-Galra work things out for himself.

With the Garrison's New Year's party looming, and Shiro's smaller New Year's part looming, Keith wasn't looking forward to either. He didn't want to make an appearance at the Garrison, he'd said so as much, yet the invitations had already promised that the Voltron Paladins would be present... yet Lance hadn't mentioned the party at all. Out of fear that his husband hadn't been invited, Keith didn't mention it either. If Lance wasn't going, then he wasn't going, and if they'd forgotten to invite his husband it was safe for everyone that he didn't. He wasn't above blowing up some smaller unstaffed storage areas of the complex in retaliation for hurting Lance's feelings by forgetting him. His husband was the most gentle and loving person known to mankind when he wasn't being a dick, and although they'd agreed that they'd spend the next deca-phoeb transitioning jobs, Keith didn't want to go back to work and leave his husband to wake up alone. Waking up with Lance was special. The times he's woke before his husband even more so as it allowed him time to study his husband without being self conscious. He loved the way Lance's eyelashes were stupidly long, and the way his lips would twitch then form a smile when Keith would whisper how much he loved him. He loved that Lance felt secure and safe enough to remain sleeping in his hold, trusting him to keep him safe. He loved the way Lance's collarbone would peek out from under their blankets... He was stupidly in love with Lance, and with their impending separation, he loved all these small moments even more. His husband might not be perfect to everyone else, but to him, he was his everything.

With Veronica and Acxa doing the chores, they were allowed the luxury of sleeping in on New Year's Eve. They'd stayed up the previous night playing card games, where Lance had shown he was amazing when it came to basic card tricks and sleight of hand. Actually, Rachel, Marco, Lance and Veronica had all been. There was some kind of sibling rivalry at play where they took particular delight in destroying each other, so Keith, Tobias, Acxa, Zethrid and Ezor had formed a team against them. Tobias dealing the crushing blow that had taken Veronica out of the game. For a man who he'd never really interacted with, it was refreshing to see Tobias opening up to them. He'd been so sure the man was an Altean in disguse, yet it seemed like Tobias simply enjoyed the antics of Lance's team and remained because of that. Next to fall to him was Lance, then Marco and Rachel had ganged up against them. It all came to a draw when Rachel spilt her drink, in a move Keith was sure was deliberate, all over the kitchen table. Calling it a night there, they realised it was already well into the Early hours of the morning. Waking a little after 9, Lance slept through until 9:30, his husband nosing at his chest until Keith finally paid attention to him. Spending the next half hour sharing small kisses and checking their comms, Lance sent him off to shower first. They'd stopped showering together for the moment, due to Keith accidentally picking up on Lance's discomfort through his scent. He loved the physical intimacy of touching Lance as they showered, but it wasn't what kept him in the relationship. He didn't need the physical stuff. His heart belonged to Lance and that was all he needed to know. When he'd returned from showering he found Lance had been busy. A bag packed and sitting by the edge of their bed. Board shorts, a black singlet, cap and sunnies and sunscreen sat on his side of their bed. He knew going to the beach had been on the plans, except he thought it would be later. Kissing him on the cheek Lance disappeared to shower, returning wearing a long sleeve rashy and boardies. His gloves didn't look quite so weird against the dark blue and black of rash shirt... though Keith was sure that someone was bound to point out that people didn't usually wear gloves to the beach. In an act of silent support, Keith donned his fingerless gloves. It was only by some miracle that they'd survived as long as they had, though with his constant want to touch Lance skin to skin, they hadn't been warm a lot lately.

Grouping at the house, the next problem was that Deahra, Zethrid and Ezor all needed swimwear. Zak was refusing to leave the Telula since he was on a roll with his coding, while Lucteal had borrowed a pair of boardshorts and a shirt from Lance, and Tobias was gifted the same in an old set of Luis's. Not being a girl, Keith didn't understand why the girls couldn't borrow a swim suit or two from Veronica and Rachel. Daehra seemed to be around the same dimensions as Rachel, though she always had most of her body covered... Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to share any of his underwear... maybe with Lance? If they were clean then what was the problem?... but girl's bodies did other things, and Acxa was wearing one of Veronica's bikinis... Did that make it a couple thing? Or did the others simply want their own swimsuits? Girls would always be a mystery to him... Keith continued to mull through the problem, even as Miriam refused to let them out the house without applying sunscreen, leaving him forces to endure Marco squirting far too much on his pale skin. He couldn't help having fair skin, and in his defence, Zak was the palest of all of them, but without the man there his argument only drew laughter from Lance who was allowed to go ahead and load up the old truck because he'd had the foresight to apply it. There'd be no exaggeration to say that Keith had a few choice words he wanted to say to his husband about not prewarning them in the safety of their bedroom. When they finally got out of the house, Rachel declared she was taking the others shopping so Lance needed to drop them off first, and that they didn't need to worry about paying because Miriam had given her money for the swimsuits. Being Lance, he scolded his sister, then promptly made them all wait while he transferred GAC over into his sister's account and took the cash she had on her, muttering something about how Rachel couldn't be trusted not to blow it all at once or to not waste their families money. Keith already knew Lance was sending GAC home to support the farm, with Christmas and now New Years, it hurt to think that maybe Lance's family were in financial trouble with all the presents they'd gifted this year. Miriam's gift to him had been a black jacket Lance had told his mother to buy him and a copy of the photo the woman had taken where Lance was sleeping on him in the living room, placed in a nice gold coloured frame. He'd also found that his own photo had made it up on the family wall of photographs, in addition to photos of their teams from Christmas. The half-Galra had to give the woman credit, she worked fast. He didn't even know she'd gone out, let alone gone out, had the photos printed, then framed and hung all within the last week.

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