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leascorner · 1 month ago

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j.b.b | The Grinch

Summary: Y/N can’t travel to see her family on Christmas so she invite her grumpy loner neighbour, Bucky.

Pairing: Post blip!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, angst, some vulgar language, everything is in the summary really, this is set like the falcon and the winter soldier never happened or it's happening before that.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is the 4th Xmas OS of the series. So sorry it is a couple of days late. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot! Merry Christmas!

2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist

18th of December

$125

Y/N blinked at the number being displayed on her phone’s screen. She had stopped right in the middle of what she was doing, in utter disbelief of her discovery. Her whole process of thoughts seemed to have frozen; just like her computer would display “error 404” when she would perform contradictory actions.

She didn’t understand how this was possible; something was wrong obviously wrong because she didn’t expect this number to be displayed. Refusing what she was seeing, she logged out of the app and then back in a couple of times.

Yet, every time, the sentence was the same.

$125

Despite everything, this was currently the amount of money Y/N had on her bank account. These past couple of months, she had been saving for this moment; a moment she had been imagining all year long and for which she expected to be shredding happy tears. Instead, the tears currently running down her cheeks were made of pure anger.

She found the culprit quite easily. A monthly interest payment of a loan that was playfully mocking her on top of her bank statement. Now that she was thinking of it, she should have probably read all those letters; the ones with the red-inked stamp “urgent” printed on them. She had found all the excuses in the world: especially how exhaustive was she after having worked double shifts almost every day lately or that it had just been easier to have them sitting on her coffee table.

Y/N had no idea what she would do. If $125 was probably quite enough to eat until the end of the month if she made a few compromises, there was no way she would be able to buy flight tickets to get home for Christmas. She would have brought them earlier if she had been able to – at a time she still had the money on her bank account, for example – but her colleague had only confirmed that same day they could take over her shifts during the Christmas week. Now, she didn’t have any money and would be alone for the year-end celebration.

Her cell phone ringing made her snap back to reality. She was still in front of her building, keys in one hand, frozen in her action to enter. Her heart sunk has she discovered the picture displayed on the screen; her sister and her, one of the last pictures they had taken together, at Y/N’s university graduation ceremony, a couple of weeks before the blip. Her sister was most likely calling her about this “very good news” Y/N had texted her about that afternoon. Now, she only had to let her know that it had been a false alarm and that she wouldn’t be able to make it home this year.

Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time indeed. In fact, ever since the blip had been reversed, Y/N had not been home for the Christmas. At first, she had chosen not to. She was the only person in her family to have been gone. Without her, they all had continued with their lives, and the post-blip had been brutal for her. One second, she was full of life: she had just gotten an amazing job in New York, and she was going to live her dream. The other, the blip had happened, five years had passed, and she had lost everything. Her family, her job, herself. Her little sister was now older than her, graduating college and ready to start a family. Her parents had retired and started a new life in California. She didn’t have a dream job anymore; she had no job at all in fact. In this world that had changed so much, she felt out of places. So, she did what she thought was could do. She left everyone behind and moved to New York.

The months after moving there had been full of hope. Hope that she could still make it to her dream job and life after all. She had gotten in touch with associations working on helping people post-blip. They said: if she took a few classes, she could be retrained on the most up to date information and she would be able to get the job she had always dreamt of after all. Yet, it was even worse than college. She had to work part-time to be able to take the night classes. She either worked or studied; leaving only a few minutes a day to eat, sleep and bath. This was until some court bailiffs came banging to her door. The banks had been quick to be back to find the people that had disappeared and were now asking them to provide the past five years’ debt payment. All of her dreams had been shattered yet again.

Determined not to ask for help, Y/N stayed in New York and totally forgot about her dreams. Instead, she found another job at a bar-restaurant – one that paid better than the cashier part-time job she had until that – and worked there ever since, trying to pay off her initial student loan and the other loan she had had to take to be able to repay the requested five-years’ worth of debt in one go. She was now planning every spendings up to the last penny. She was living off diluted body and hair shower gel and all sorts of techniques to have the impression of having eaten a lot more than she had. Yet, it hadn’t been enough.

It was never enough…

Drying off her tears, she answered her phone and stuck it against her ear with her shoulder while she entered the building. She was quick to break the news to her sister. She kept her voice steady, not showing any emotions to shorten the conversation as much as possible. She did so as she collected her mail and then turned to take the stairs up to her apartment.

On the phone, Y/N didn’t see her neighbour coming down the stairs and eventually run straight into him. She would have fallen down the two steps she had just climbed if he hadn’t caught up by the arms at the very last moment.

"For fuck’s sake!" he sighed angrily. "Can’t you watch where you’re going?"

Y/N only answered by rolling her eyes. She picked up her phone from the floor; her sister was still on the line, calling after her. While she turned it to her, she discovered her screen totally shattered. She would have cried if she could have…

Without further ado, she put her phone back to her ear and continued to go up the stairs. Her neighbour – a guy that moved in a couple of months ago and that was hardly saying ‘hello’ the few times they had seen each other in the hall – huffed and without thinking nor turning back, Y/N flipped him off. She would probably be ashamed of this later, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less of what he would think of her.

She couldn’t care less about anything anyway.

20th of December

Two days later, as Y/N was slowly accepting the fact that she would not be with her family for Christmas, she encountered her favourite neighbour in the hall again.

She had just gotten home from work and was collecting a parcel in her letterbox. This was a present for her sister that she wouldn’t be able to give her in the end and for which she couldn’t even pay stamp to ship it to her home. She would be lucky if she could return it and get a few dollars back.

As she was closing her letterbox, her neighbour entered the hall. Feeling a little guilty about the other night, Y/N’s first thought was to apologies for her behaviour. A quick look at the guy and the constant frown on his face made her swallow her saliva; hard.

He was good-looking though, with his blue-piercing eyes and full lips. The stubble on his chin –always of the same length whenever she would see him – let her think that he was taking care of himself; though the way he dressed was clearly demonstrating he wasn’t really on point on the fashion side. If he wasn’t always so… whatever he always was… she probably would have liked him. With his grumpy looks, he reminded her of this movie character she liked so much when she was a kid: the Grinch.

In silence, Y/N watched from the corner of her eyes as he also checked his mailbox, a couple of meters away from hers. After gathering the few letters in the box, he sighed and abruptly closed the door.

“What now?” he asked as he turned to her.

Y/N jumped to the tone of his voice. He was clearly annoyed at her while she hadn’t done anything. At least that day.

“No need to be a dick,” she quickly bit back, annoyance building up in her voice as much as his, and he huffed again – this seemed to be something he would do a lot. She had to take a quick deep breath before continuing: "I wanted to… apology for the other night.”

The words nearly burnt her mouth as she was saying them. It cost her a lot to admit her wrongs, yet his cold eyes only started at her, and he spoke no words back. She didn’t know how she wanted him to react, but his absence of reaction startled her, and only made her want to justify herself further.

“I wasn’t in a good mood,” she added.

“You are not the only one to have bad days,” was all he said before leaving.

Taken aback, Y/N watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out of his sight. She couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he had been. She swore this was the last time she would ever speak to him.

22nd of December

Y/N rarely overslept.

The only reason for that was that she didn’t sleep a lot. Ever since the blip, she had trouble finding sleep and then, staying asleep. It was like her body had a big fear of missing out on everything and anything, so it just let her sleep the number of hours she needed to keep going. She would have thought that with the double shifts she was doing, she would have slept better, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed wide awake in her bed, fixing the ceiling, eyes heavy with tiredness. She had all this time to think about the misery of her own life.

However, it seemed that night that the tiredness had gotten the most out of her, and as she never set an alarm clock – because she rarely needed, she was now going to be late for work. She took only a couple of minutes to get ready, drink a coffee and brush her teeth all at the same times. Ten minutes later, she was already grabbing her stuff and putting her coat on.

As she opened the door of her apartment, she came face-to-face with her neighbour going up the stairs. They both immediately stopped in their tracks.

He looked at her. Her eyes still puffy from the fact she had still been sleeping less than fifteen minutes ago. Hair all other the place even if she had put hair clips in them to keep them into place. She had dressed up in such a hurry, the shirt of her uniform was halfway in and halfway out of her pants.

She looked at him looking at her. With the same frown on his face and the same cold glance. Just this time, the circles around his eyes were darker than ever and he looked much more tired than her. For the first time, she saw something vulnerable in him, a flash of sadness in the blankness of his face.

They looked at one another. So different yet somehow similar. With their inability to sleep properly, the memories that kept them up at night and their resentment about this life that had been taken away from them. Both of them with all their trauma and weaknesses. With their constant melancholy and sometimes, their good days.

They looked at each other some more and then they both continued on with their day.

24th of December

Y/N was just settling on her couch – which was also her bed – in front of the TV, wrapped in her fluffy blanket and two pairs of fleece socks on her feet when she heard a knock on her door. She froze instantly; bad memories coming back to her in an instant. She had been visited a few times by different people always banging on her door at sunrise; each time, it never had ended well. Per pure reflex, she held her breath as if whoever was on her front door would be able to hear her - the walls were probably thin, but not this thin.

After counting to ten and not hearing anything else, she relaxed into her sofa. It was probably just her imagination at this point, this was how tired she was. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and started an episode of her favourite TV show. This was when she heard a knock for the second time. One time too many for her.

This time she paused her show and got on her feet to have a look. Sulking for the five steps it took her to go to the front door, she opened it bluntly and was surprised to find her neighbour ‘The Grinch’.

He looked at her, surprised and she looked at him, probably even more surprised. Her gaze turned instinctively to her feet and the fluffy pyjamas she was wearing. She couldn’t help the heat crawling up her neck, so she looked back to him and her eyes got stuck on his hands. One of flesh and one of metal. Holding a metal box between them. That he was now holding up to her.

She frowned.

“For you.”

Her eyes moved up to his face again, to check if he was serious or not. She could have fallen asleep the minutes her show started and be dreaming; though from how cold her feet were, she was pretty sure she wasn’t. Nothing on his face indicated he was joking – he didn’t seem to be the type to joke anyway. He wasn’t actually frowning, but he still had a small wrinkle in between his two eyebrows from all the frowning he was doing that somehow it still looked like he was. She wouldn’t say the expression on his face was friendly, but it had something that for once made her not want to close the door on his face.

Perhaps, it was because of the straight line his lips were in. They which were was usually so pink and so… luscious. From that, she couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now – was he nervous? Or simply contemplating all his life choices now that he was in front of her. She knew it was costing him to be here in front of her.

She looked back at the metal box in his hands; was he really expecting her to take it?

“My ma’ used to cook cookies for our neighbours,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His glance adverted to the ceiling as if he was looking for the right words to continue: “I thought maybe… this was a good way to apologize. For the other day…and all the times before that.”

This time, it was Y/N’s time to stop frowning – she would have to check later if she had also a wrinkle. She took the box he was handing her and nodded, in some sort of way to mean ‘thank you’. The box was heavier than she had expected it to be. She wondered if he had made them himself, like his ‘ma’ was probably doing.

“My name is Bucky by the way.” Was all he said before leaving her like that, a box of cookies in her hands.

25th of December

Working at a restaurant had its own perks. One of them being that Y/N could have at least one meal a day in the form of the staff meal. And on special occasions – like today – she could even get home with leftovers, most of them she would normally stock up in her freezer to make sure she had something to eat in the next couple of days.

That day though, when she climbed up the stairs, she didn’t stop on the second floor where her apartment was. Instead, her feet got her to the fourth floor, on the second door on the right. One she had never been to and yet, she knew exactly where to find it.

She didn’t hesitate one second before knocking, though the few seconds she had to wait she did get cold feet and wonder if it was really a good idea. Bucky did have gifted her handmade cookies – she had eaten a couple after he left while watching her favourite show, and it was the best she probably ever had. However, it did not mean they were now friends. They were just two adults, seeing each other in the hall of their building sometimes. That was all… Then, why was she so damned pulled towards him?

Bucky opened the door when she was about to turn around. He had a blank tank top and black pants on. Thankfully, he did not seem to be in the middle of a Christmas dinner and his apartment was pretty quiet behind him. His usual frown had been replaced by raised eyebrows. He was surprised to see her, on Christmas day, in her work clothes, at his door. He would have probably expected her to be in her family, with her friends or boyfriend, even. Instead, she had nowhere better to be than in front of him, right now.

They stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time, before his cat – Alpine as he called after, while trying to stop it to get outside his apartment – came to rub itself against her legs. She immediately lowered herself to scratch it behind the ear and Bucky observed them without a word. His cat, who was usually more than a little fearful of people it didn't know, was on the verge of lying down on the floor and beg for belly rubs.

“Are you on your own too?” was the only thing he spoke, and she got back on her feet, suddenly remembering why she was actually here.

“Wanna share?” she asked while showing him the paper bag in which she had the leftovers from the restaurant.

His eyes scanned her face a little too long for Y/N’s liking that she grew nervous. She felt like an idiot, believing… whatever – she wasn’t even sure she was believing. She was just lonely, having been alone for too long. The only people she hung out with would be her colleagues, on her work time – and they had taken a drink together after work a time or two. Most of them were students or only planning to be in the job for a couple of months before bouncing back. None of them was like her, as if she had been the only one to disappear off of the surface of the earth.

Over the last few years, she had repeated to herself – over and over again – that she didn’t need anyone. It was true somehow; she was fine alone. It was just that today she wanted a break from all of this, and she had thought of him. Because she had seen the veil before his eyes. She had seen it on hers before. She knew why… He was just like her. And perhaps, she had thought, they could be alone together. That was what they called the Christmas spirit, no?

“I mean, I’ve got more than enough, and you can have some. We don’t need to eat together. Totally fine if you wish to be alone.” She overexplained, speaking so fast he couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. She was just going to go home anyway. It was probably already late in the day; she would eat some food because she could – it was a victory on its own. “And you’ve probably already eaten, it’s fine. Don’t mind me.”

She was going to turn around, but he stepped on the side, making room for her to get in. Alpine instantly trotted in, its tail straight as a pick.

“I’ve got Gin,” was all he said again. A man of a few words he was.

And that was how they would both of them spent their first Christmases with someone in years. They would drink gin, try a bit of every leftover Y/N had gotten and finish by some kind of French pastry neither of them knew how it was named. They would speak for hours – or sort of, it was a few words here and there, making sentences altogether. They would have a good time and when it was time for Y/N to go home, she would suggest doing it again and Bucky would smile in response. A soft smile that would warm her heart forever. A smile that illuminated his whole face and probably his life.

And perhaps that was what exactly what she had come to find that night.

Some warmth.

#lea's writing #jbb #lea's 2024 christmas series #christmas fic #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky angst #bucky barnes x female reader #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel one shot

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glorious-spoon · 4 months ago

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Easy as That [9-1-1 | Buck & Eddie | 1/1]

in honor of 9-1-1 day, please enjoy this little episode tag for 7x04 that i recently found in my drafts. because i really wanted to see the conversation between buck and eddie after all that

850 words episode tag | apologies | friendship

The first words out of Buck's mouth when Eddie pulls the door open are, "I figured I owed you a proper apology."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees mildly. He's got a crutch tucked under his arm, which makes it difficult to maneuver the door, so he lets Buck deal with it even though he's got a pile of takeout bags in one hand. Apology takeout, no doubt. The bags are stamped with the logo from Anarkali's, and he can smell curry and ginger. As bribes go, he could have done worse. Eddie is weak for their chicken jalfrezi. "You kinda do."

"Not kinda. I was—I was so out of line, Eddie, I'm so sorry."

"Shit happens."

"What, as easy as that?"

Eddie snorts, heading back into the kitchen without bothering to look back and see if Buck is following him. He is, of course. He always is. They already talked on the phone last night, when Eddie was loopy on painkillers and feeling kinda bad about winding Buck up as much as he did. He's less stoned now, and his ankle fucking hurts, so it's a little sharper when he says, "I was always gonna forgive you. You want me to drag it out?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no. But still."

Eddie sighs. It's a character flaw, probably, that he can't resist Buck's face when he looks like this. "We'll get past it. Just like you and Chim did after he decked you that one time. Okay?"

Buck presses his lips together and nods. He sets the bags down on the table and says, "I don't have to stay. If you want some space."

"I don't want space. Maybe an explanation." He nods toward the kitchen drawers. "You can get the forks. I hope you brought enough for both of us, because I'm not sharing."

"Yeah. I—I figured if you didn't want me around, there'd be leftovers."

"I always want you around, you idiot."

"Even after I broke your ankle?"

"It's just a sprain."

"That feels sort of like missing the point, Eddie."

"Listen," Eddie says. He eases himself into a chair, propping the crutch against the table next to him. In the kitchen, Buck pauses with the silverware drawer half-open, takes a visible deep breath, and turns back toward him with a pair of forks clutched in his hand. "You acted like an idiot, and somebody got hurt. It happens. So now you're gonna bring me a fork, sit your ass down, and tell me what's going on with you. Okay?"

"Okay," Buck says, pushing the silverware drawer gently shut. He brings the forks back to the table, sets one in front of Eddie, and reaches into the bag to pull out the takeout containers.

There's a few minutes of silence while they get everything dished out, and then Eddie takes a bite of his jalfrezi, takes a moment to savor it, then says, "Okay. Talk."

"I mean, I don't know what to say," Buck says evasively. Eddie gives him a look, and he sighs. "Okay, I—I was jealous. Of you, and—and Tommy."

"Tommy," Eddie repeats.

Buck nods, his gaze fixed on his takeout dish, which he's sort of poking at like he expects it to come to life. Eddie reaches across to steal a piece of coconut curry. Buck doesn't even try to knock his fork out of the way. It's kind of amazing how much he looks like a kicked puppy right now. "I—I guess, I thought, you know, I thought he was so cool, and you thought he was so cool, and all of a sudden you guys were hanging out all the time and you kept saying how well you two clicked…"

"I was messing with you. You get that, right?"

"I mean. Now, yeah. Then I just felt like…I don't know. I—I should have talked to you, instead of—but I didn't mean for it to go down like that. I swear."

Eddie nods, chewing the inside corner of his lip briefly. "It was still a dick move."

"Yeah," Buck says. "It was."

"Well, as long as you get that."

"I really do."

"And you and Tommy are cool, now? You kissed and made up?"

Surprisingly, Buck's face goes bright red. Eddie raises his eyebrows, and he says, "Y-yeah, we're—we talked, and—we're good, yeah." He opens his mouth, makes a little stuttering noise, then says, "We're, uh, we're actually hanging out this weekend."

"Without me?" Eddie deadpans, and Buck looks so stricken that he has to laugh. "Kidding, I'm kidding, come on. I'm glad. I knew you two would get along."

"Yeah," Buck says. He lets out a shaky little laugh, then nods a couple of times and says it again. "Yeah."

Eddie raises his eyebrows, but Buck's not looking at him. He's busy spearing a piece of curry, and this time when Eddie tries to steal a bite, Buck smacks at his fork until he retreats, a juvenile little ritual that probably shouldn't make Eddie feel so light. He knows he's not getting the full story of what's going on with Buck, but that's okay. They're okay. He'll find out the rest of it eventually.

#911 #911 fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #my fic

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estellan0vella · 2 months ago

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Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty Two: Merry Fucking Christmas SS: 17 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 6.8K Content Warnings: Minyun fluffiness, sex talk, lots of graphic sex details, thoughts of relapse, implied sex Previous Next Masterlist

The living room is a cosy chaos of mismatched wrapping paper, soft pyjamas, and the warm glow of the Christmas tree. Minho is lounging on the couch, his arm casually draped over Hayun’s waist as she sits sideways on his lap. She’s clutching a steaming mug of coffee, her hair tied in a loose bun, looking completely at ease.

Felix, Jeongin, and Jisung are sprawled out on the floor and other seats, surrounded by their piles of gifts, laughing and bantering as they dig through their stockings and presents.

Hayun glances at the clock and sighs. “Hold up,” she says, setting her coffee on the table. She untangles herself from Minho’s lap, much to his displeasure, and heads to the kitchen. “I need to preheat the oven. If the roast isn’t perfect, I’ll cry.”

Minho stretches, watching her leave with a small smile. “You’d cry over a roast, but not a death threat? Makes sense.”

“Priorities, Minho,” Hayun calls back with a laugh.

When she returns, she’s immediately pulled back into Minho’s lap. He wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You’re not allowed to move again,” he says, mock-serious.

“Possessive much?” she teases, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Damn right,” Minho replies, smirking.

Felix claps his hands together, his face lighting up. “Okay, who’s first? Let’s fucking do this.”

“Let Felix open his shit first,” Jisung says, nudging him with his foot. “We know he’s gonna have the best reactions.”

Felix grins, grabbing the first box with his name scrawled messily on it in Jisung’s handwriting. He rips the wrapping open to reveal a pair of sparkling Swarovski earrings. His jaw drops. “No fucking way!” he exclaims, holding them up to the light. “Jisung, you absolute legend.”

Jisung winks. “Knew you’d love them. You’ve been eyeing that shit for months. Figured it was time to treat you so you'll stop drooling on your laptop screen.”

Felix tackles him in a hug, nearly knocking over Jisung’s coffee. “You’re the best, dude. Seriously.”

Next, Felix grabs a neat, perfectly wrapped package with Jeongin’s name on it. “Wow, the wrapping alone screams not Jisung,” Felix jokes as he opens it. Inside are two hoodies he’s been obsessing over online. “Jeongin, what the fuck? These are the exact ones I wanted!”

Jeongin shrugs, a sly grin on his face. “I pay attention. Sometimes. Merry Christmas.”

Felix beams, hugging Jeongin tightly before moving on to Hayun’s gift. The wrapping is pristine, complete with a glittering bow. “I already know this is going to be amazing,” Felix says as he carefully unwraps it. Inside is a complete baking set, from high-end mixing bowls to silicone spatulas and cookie cutters. “Hayun! Holy shit! This is perfect.”

Hayun smiles. “I figured you’d put it to good use.”

“I’m baking for the rest of my life because of this,” Felix declares, hugging her tightly. He finally grabs Minho’s gift: a gaming store card. “Classic Minho,” Felix teases. “But honestly? Love it. Thanks, man.”

Minho smirks. “Knew you’d prefer that over me trying to guess what game you want.”

Jisung tears into his first gift, a sleek new laptop from Felix. “Holy shit,” he breathes. “This is- Felix, you didn’t have to-”

“Shut up,” Felix interrupts, grinning. “You needed it for editing. Merry Christmas.”

Next, Jisung opens Hayun’s present: a pair of high-quality headphones. “Hayun, these are fucking perfect,” he says, pulling them out of the box. “I’ve been needing new ones for, like, years.”

“Well, now you don’t have an excuse to complain about bad sound anymore,” Hayun teases.

When Jisung opens Minho’s gift, he bursts into laughter. It’s a book titled How to Ask Out Your Crush for Dummies. “You’re a fucking asshole,” Jisung says, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

Minho high-fives him. “Merry Christmas, loser.”

Jeongin’s gift is a new microphone, sleek and professional. “This is for me as much as it is you,” Jeongin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m tired of editing podcast episodes and having you rerecord lines because your fucking mic is a heap of shit. Felix and Hayun picked good mics. You picked a shit one. So, you’re welcome.”

Jisung mock-glares. “I hate you, but thank you.”

Jeongin’s turn comes, and everyone bursts out laughing as he opens his gifts. A stack of gift vouchers from every single person because he is notoriously picky about his gifts. “Fucking predictable,” he mutters, but there’s a small smile on his face. “You guys know me too well.”

Minho’s first gift is from Jisung: another copy of How to Ask Out Your Crush for Dummies. They high-five again, both cackling. “We’re assholes,” Jisung says proudly.

From Hayun, Minho opens a sleek silver watch, his eyes widening. “Hayun, this is fucking stunning,” he says, slipping it onto his wrist.

“You deserve it,” Hayun says simply, her smile soft.

Felix’s gift to Minho is a British recipe cookbook. “You’re welcome,” Felix says with a grin.

Minho nods approvingly. “Fair enough. I’ll master this shit.”

Jeongin’s gift is an Aristocats sweater. Minho laughs out loud, immediately pulling it over his head. “Okay, this? I love it,” he says.

Finally, it’s Hayun’s turn. She opens Jisung’s gift first: a self-defence key ring with multiple tools. “This is actually really thoughtful,” Hayun says, her voice soft.

Jisung grins. “Gotta keep you safe, Mrs. Claus. Speaking of-” He hands her another gift, and she pulls out a sleeveless red dress with white fur trim. “You’re wearing that today,” Jisung says firmly. “Go full Mrs. Claus or I’ll riot.”

Hayun laughs, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous, but fine.”

Felix’s gift is a pair of new AirPods. “Perfect,” Hayun says, hugging him. “You’re the best, Lix.”

Jeongin’s gift is a paid-for spa day for two. “You need to relax,” Jeongin says simply.

“Thank you, Innie. This is amazing,” Hayun says, hugging him.

Finally, Minho hands her a small, elegantly wrapped box. She opens it carefully, revealing a silver ring with an aquamarine stone. Her breath catches. “Minho,” she says softly, looking up at him.

“It’s your birthstone,” he says, his voice low. “I figured it’d suit you.”

Hayun slides the ring onto her finger. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

The morning winds down as Hayun checks her phone. “Chan and the others will be here at twelve,” she announces. “We should all get ready. It’s all hands on deck for the Christmas roast.”

Jisung groans. “Hyunjin wanted to know if there’ll be any Korean food today?”

“For lunch, it’s the roast,” Hayun says, glancing at Minho. “And Minho’s making Korean food tonight, right?”

Minho nods. “Tteok guk, sweet potato noodles, beef bulgogi, japchae—the works.”

“Fuck yeah,” Jisung says, fist-pumping.

Hayun smiles warmly as she sips her coffee. “Merry Fucking Christmas, guys.”

“Merry Fucking Christmas,” everyone echoes, laughter and warmth filling the room.

Hayun and Minho step into her room, the soft morning light filtering through her curtains, casting a warm glow over the space. Her vanity is cluttered but organized, an array of makeup brushes, palettes, and skincare products arranged in neat chaos. Minho flops onto her bed, still in Jeongin’s Aristocats sweater, grinning at her as she settles into the vanity chair.

Hayun grabs a cleansing wipe, running it over her face. “You sticking with the sweater?” she teases, glancing at him through the mirror.

“Damn right,” Minho replies, tugging at the hem of it. “This shit’s amazing. But I’m not wearing pyjama pants all day. I have standards.”

Hayun chuckles, tossing the used wipe into the trash before reaching for her foundation. “Standards? You? In that sweater?”

Minho props himself up on his elbows, watching as she dabs foundation onto her skin. “Don’t knock it, princess. I look good in this. Besides, you should be grateful. I’m tolerating all this holiday chaos for you.”

She smirks, blending her makeup. “Oh, so noble of you. Truly, a martyr.”

“Someone’s gotta keep you in line,” Minho quips, stretching out on her bed.

Hayun moves onto her eyeliner, leaning closer to the mirror as she carefully draws a sharp wing. “You’re doing a great job, Min,” she says dryly.

Minho sits up, grinning. “Damn right, I am. Now hurry up, I want to see this Mrs Claus dress Jisung got you”

Hayun rolls her eyes but finishes her makeup quickly, applying silver and white eyeshadow with precise strokes. A coat of mascara follows, her lashes curling up perfectly. She dusts on a bit of highlighter and lip gloss, then swivels in her chair to face him. “Ta-da.”

“Beautiful,” Minho says simply, his tone softening. Then he smirks. “But let’s see the dress.”

Hayun stands, slipping off her silk robe, revealing her white lace bra and underwear. Minho’s gaze immediately sharpens, his smirk growing. “Well, Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

“Shut up,” Hayun says as she grabs the dress. She pulls it over her head, the sleeveless red fabric fitting snugly, the white fur trim brushing against her shoulders and thighs. She adjusts the black belt with the oversized buckle, smoothing the fabric over her hips.

Minho whistles low. “You’re actually pulling off the Mrs. Claus look. Impressive.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Hayun laughs, bending over to rummage through her sock drawer.

Minho’s eyes flick to her and then quickly away. “Hayun,” he says, his voice taking on a teasing edge.

She turns, a pair of white fluffy socks in her hand, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

Minho is holding a sprig of mistletoe above his head, grinning. “Let me kiss my girlfriend under the mistletoe.”

Hayun’s eyes narrow playfully. “Girlfriend? You still haven’t watched Harry Potter.”

“I will,” Minho counters, his grin widening. “You know I will.”

“Then ask me properly,” Hayun challenges, crossing her arms.

Minho scoffs, but his tone is light. “Me giving you that expensive-ass ring that’s sitting on your finger wasn’t enough?”

Hayun leans back in her chair, tilting her head. “I don’t recall you actually asking.”

Minho groans, clearly dramatic for effect. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Jang Hayun, I’m just a guy, standing before a girl-”

“Are you being serious?” Hayun interrupts, laughing.

Minho laughs too, lowering the mistletoe. “Okay, okay. Seriously this time.” He takes a breath, his expression softening as he looks at her. “Jang Hayun, will you be my girlfriend?”

Hayun tilts her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm... let me think about it.”

“Seriously?” Minho exclaims, his voice rising an octave.

She smiles, leaning forward, and Minho takes the opportunity to kiss her, holding the mistletoe above their heads. The kiss is soft but lingering, his free hand resting on her waist as he pulls her closer. When they break apart, he rests his forehead against hers, smirking. “So, is that a yes?”

“Obviously,” Hayun murmurs, her voice light and full of warmth.

Minho pulls back slightly, his expression shifting to something more mischievous. “You need to wear safety shorts with that dress, though.”

“What?” Hayun asks, confused.

“You bent over, and-” Minho gestures vaguely, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Hayun groans, rolling her eyes as she grabs a pair of hotpants from her drawer. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m practical,” Minho says, leaning back against her bedframe. “Actually, you probably just shouldn’t bend over at all.”

“Noted,” Hayun mutters, pulling on the hotpants under her dress.

Minho watches her, a smug grin on his face. “Good. Crisis averted.”

She shakes her head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you fucking love it,” Minho counters, standing and adjusting his sweater. He swaps his pyjama pants for black cargos, then holds out a hand to her. “Come on, Mrs. Claus. Let’s go play host.”

Hayun takes his hand, her smile warm and genuine. “Let’s go, Grinch.”

The living room is filled with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine, the table groaning under the weight of the Christmas roast. Hayun flits between the kitchen and the dining area, making sure everything is perfect.

Plates are piled high with turkey, chicken, beef, gammon, and an assortment of perfectly roasted vegetables. The gravy boats sit strategically placed among bowls of stuffing, cranberry sauce, and Yorkshire puddings.

Changbin takes one look at the spread and practically moans. “This,” he declares, waving a fork dramatically, “is fucking heaven. Hayun, thank god for your Western influence.”

Hayun laughs as she takes her seat, raising her wine glass in a mock toast. “Cheers to Etta. May she thrive in hell and entertain Satan.”

Jisung cackles, raising his glass as well. “Oh, I miss Etta. She was your best foster parent, hands down.”

“She was a hot fucking mess,” Hayun agrees, clinking her glass against Jisung’s. “But she knew how to roast a chicken.”

“Roast a chicken?” Minho repeats, smirking. “I feel like she could roast a soul.”

“She probably did,” Felix chimes in, pouring himself another glass of wine. “But at least the food was good.”

As everyone digs into the feast, the atmosphere becomes warm and relaxed. Hyunjin is delicately slicing his turkey while Jisung is halfway through his second helping of gammon. Jeongin is buttering his fourth roll when Chan leans back in his chair with a mischievous grin.

“Alright,” Chan says, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Let’s spice things up. Who has the most embarrassing sex story?”

There’s a beat of silence, then Felix snickers. “Oh, this is about to get wild.”

Jisung doesn’t even hesitate, raising his hand like a student in class. “Okay, okay, I’ll go first. So, I was giving this guy head, right? Things are going great, he’s about to come, and then- Bam! He fucking cums in my eye. I’m stumbling around half-blind, tears streaming down my face, trying not to scream.”

The table erupts into laughter. Hayun nearly chokes on her wine, and Hyunjin is laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach.

“That’s horrifying,” Seungmin manages to get out between laughs. “Did it, like, burn?”

“Like acid,” Jisung says dramatically. “I swear I saw god for a second.”

Hyunjin wipes his eyes, grinning. “Alright, my turn. I hooked up with this guy, super hot, right? But halfway through, he fucking farts. Loud as hell. And I didn’t stop him. I just held my nose and let him keep going.”

Jeongin groans, burying his face in his hands. “Hyunjin, no.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin says, throwing his hands up. “Because I’m a fucking trooper.”

The laughter only gets louder. Felix shakes his head, raising his hand. “Okay, okay, I have one. So, I’m in this threesome, guy, girl, you know the vibe. The girl’s on her back, and the guy’s railing me in doggy style. But the girl starts queefing, and guess who has to fix it? Me. I’m fingering the air out of her while getting railed. It was like a fucking symphony.”

Everyone loses it. Jisung actually falls off his chair, wheezing. Hayun is covering her mouth, tears streaming down her face, and Minho just shakes his head, laughing. “Felix, what the fuck.”

Felix grins, completely unbothered. “Hey, I was multitasking. That’s talent.”

“Alright, my turn,” Chan cuts in, raising his glass. “So, a guy was sucking me off, right? And he gagged so hard he nearly vomited.”

There’s a collective gasp of horror, and everyone’s eyes immediately snap to Jeongin, who takes a long sip of his wine. “I struggled to relax my throat that day,” Jeongin admits, deadpan.

Chan pats his shoulder, laughing. “It’s alright, Innie. If you’d actually vomited, then it would’ve been awkward.”

“Fucking hell,” Changbin mutters, shaking his head. “That’s brutal.”

Seungmin clears his throat. “Okay, my turn. I was with this girl, and she kept trying to wear a tail butt plug in bed. Like, a fox tail or some shit. I didn’t know what to do when I saw her with it in.”

“Did you pull it out?” Hyunjin asks, wide-eyed.

“No,” Seungmin says, his tone dry. “I just stared at it for, like, a solid minute before pretending I didn’t see anything.”

Jisung turns to Hayun, grinning wickedly. “Oh, Yunnieee. Your turn.”

Hayun immediately starts reading the wine label in her hand, avoiding his gaze. Minho raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, come on, Yunnie,” Jisung presses. “Tell them the handcuff story.”

“Handcuffs?” Minho repeats, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Hayun.

Jisung smirks, leaning back in his chair. “So, once upon a time, our dear Yunnie brought home a guy from the club. Ugly as fuck, but hey, who am I to judge? Anyway, they get freaky, and then I hear her shouting for me. I grab my bat because I think this guy’s hurting her. Felix comes out with a deodorant and a lighter, and Jeongin’s holding a brick.”

Felix nods, laughing. “True story.”

“We burst in,” Jisung continues, “only to find Yunnie handcuffed to the headboard. The guy fucking lost the key. So, there we are, on our hands and knees, trying to find this damn key.”

“It was hilarious,” Felix adds, grinning.

Minho looks at Hayun, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Princess, you’ve got layers. Handcuffs?”

Hayun drains her wine glass, glaring at Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin. “We swore to forget that, assholes.”

Changbin chuckles, raising his hand. “Alright, I’ve got one. I was with this guy, and he asked me to pick him up mid-fuck. So, I did. Then I got a cramp and dropped him.”

The laughter is deafening. Felix is clutching his sides, tears streaming down his face. “Oh my god, Changbin, no!”

Finally, everyone looks at Minho. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. I was with this girl, and we decided to try anal. She farted during the prep, and I couldn’t get hard around her ever again.”

The room erupts. Even Hayun is laughing, her cheeks red as she leans against Minho. “Oh my god, Min,” she says, giggling. “That’s awful.”

“Tell me about it,” Minho mutters, pouring himself another glass of wine.

By unanimous vote, Felix is declared the winner. Everyone raises their glasses, grinning. “To Felix,” Chan announces. “King of awkward fucking sex.”

Felix lifts his glass with a dramatic bow. “Thank you, thank you. It’s a hard crown to wear, but someone’s gotta do it.”

Plates are steadily being emptied, though Felix is still eyeing a second helping of gammon while Changbin holds court over the mashed potatoes. Minho sits beside Hayun, his arm draped casually over the back of her chair as they sip from their wine glasses.

“So, Princess,” Minho starts, his voice dripping with amusement, “handcuffs, huh? Should I be worried, or is that your way of hinting at something for our next date?”

Hayun, ever composed, smiles sweetly and looks up at him through her lashes. “Why, Minho,” she says, her tone innocent and lilting, “are you saying you’re interested in tying me up?”

Minho groans softly, covering his face for a moment as laughter erupts around the table. “Don’t do that,” he mutters, his voice low and strained. “That fucking look. It’s criminal.”

“What look?” Hayun teases, feigning ignorance as she takes a delicate sip of her wine. “I’m just sitting here, minding my business.”

“Bullshit,” Minho counters, narrowing his eyes at her. “You know exactly what you’re doing. Jesus, Hayun. Do you have to be this much of a menace?”

Hayun tilts her head, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Min,” she starts, her tone dripping with faux-curiosity, “do you have a corruption kink?”

The table collectively groans with laughter, and Jisung practically wheezes as he smacks the table. “Oh, she’s got you, dude. Fucking checkmate.”

Minho hums, taking a long sip of his wine as he considers her. “You know what? Maybe I do. Wanna test it?”

Hayun giggles into her glass, her cheeks turning pink. “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head, but there’s a playful gleam in her eyes.

“You love it,” Minho shoots back, smirking. He leans closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur just for her. “And for the record, if I’m the one using the handcuffs, you’re not calling for Jisung to save you.”

Hayun nearly chokes on her wine, laughing as she bats at his chest. “Minho, you can’t just say shit like that!”

“Can and will,” he replies, grinning. “You should know that by now.”

Meanwhile, the rest of the table is deep in a new round of teasing. Jisung, emboldened by wine and chaos, is zeroed in on Hyunjin. “So, let me get this straight,” Jisung says, leaning his chin on his hand. “Guy farts during sex, and your response is to just keep going like nothing happened? That’s commitment.”

Hyunjin flushes, rolling his eyes as he stabs at a piece of turkey. “What was I supposed to do, stop? It’s not like there’s a manual for that situation.”

“Stop?” Jisung repeats, feigning horror. “Yes, Hyunjin, stopping is exactly what you do when someone farts mid-fuck. You’re not a goddamn priest absolving him of his sins.”

Hyunjin glares at Jisung, though there’s no heat behind it. “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Jizz-in-the-Eye.”

The table erupts again, Chan nearly spilling his drink as he doubles over in laughter. “Alright, big guy,” Jisung locks in on Chan, his grin returning. “Let’s hear about your perfect sex life. What’s it like being the patron saint of blowjobs?”

Chan leans back, smirking as he rests an arm on the back of Jeongin’s chair. “Ask Innie,” he says smoothly, earning a loud, disbelieving laugh from the rest of the group.

Jeongin groans, covering his face with one hand. “Why do you insist on dragging me into this?” he mutters, though the corners of his lips twitch upward.

“You dragged yourself in when you didn’t relax your throat,” Chan teases, nudging Jeongin playfully. “It’s a team effort, baby.”

Jeongin sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Fine, I’ll work on my form. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Chan says, his grin widening.

Seungmin, who’s been quietly sipping his wine, raises an eyebrow at the exchange. “You two are disgusting,” he says dryly. “And that’s coming from someone who once had to pretend a fox tail wasn’t a giant red flag.”

Hayun laughs, leaning into Minho’s side. “This table is chaos,” she says softly, shaking her head.

“And you love it,” Minho murmurs, kissing the top of her head.

Jisung, ever the instigator, turns his attention back to Hayun and Minho. “Alright, lovebirds. You’ve been weirdly quiet. Something you wanna share?”

“Not a thing,” Hayun says quickly, her cheeks turning pink.

Minho smirks, glancing down at her. “Oh, we’ve got plenty to share,” he teases. “But I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

“Fucking spill,” Jisung demands, leaning forward eagerly.

“Maybe later,” Minho says smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast. “For now, let’s focus on what’s important: Hyunjin’s inability to stop mid-fart.”

“Fuck you, Minho,” Hyunjin groans, though he’s laughing as he flips him off.

Felix frowns and glances around the room. “Hold up,” he says, his voice cutting through the chatter. “Everyone’s here, right? That makes nine of us.”

“Yeah, why?” Changbin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Felix points toward the hallway. “So who the fuck just knocked on the door?”

The room falls quiet, and Hayun stands, smoothing her dress. “I’ll check. Probably just a neighbour or something,” she says lightly, leaving the dining room.

She heads down the hall to the front door, the soft hum of conversation picking back up behind her. When she opens the door, there’s no one there.

Just a small package sitting neatly on the welcome mat. Her name is written in neat, cursive handwriting across the top. A chill runs down her spine, and she glances up and down the quiet street before picking it up.

Back in the kitchen, Hayun sets the package on the counter and grabs a knife to cut it open. Inside, there’s a small note resting on top of a smaller box. She unfolds the note, her heart sinking as she reads:

Happy Christmas, from a friend x

Hayun’s hands tremble as she opens the box inside. Two bottles of oxycodone sit nestled within. Her breath hitches, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s tilting.

“Fuck,” she whispers under her breath, staring at the pills. It’s been over a month since Minho helped her get clean, but the sight of the pills stirs something deep and ugly inside her. She clenches her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fights the urge.

The kitchen door swings open, and Chan steps in. He freezes when he sees the look on her face. “Hayun? What’s going on?”

She looks up at him, her eyes wide and glassy. Wordlessly, she gestures toward the open box. Chan steps closer and peers inside, his jaw tightening. He sucks in a sharp breath, then quickly wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mutters, closing the box and holding it tightly. “Hayun, who sent this? Did you-”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice shaking. “But I nearly did. I was just... I don’t know, Chan. After the doll at the college, and now this... I can’t—” She cuts herself off, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Chan squeezes her shoulder gently. “Hey. It’s okay. We’ll deal with this. But we’re not telling anyone else right now. They’ll freak, and it’s Christmas. We’ll figure this out, alright?”

Hayun nods, biting her lip. She pulls open a drawer and takes out a pack of cigarettes. Chan raises an eyebrow. “You smoke?” he asks, his voice laced with surprise.

Hayun shrugs, already pulling one out and lighting it. “Only when I’m really fucking stressed,” she says, taking a deep drag. She opens the kitchen window and perches on the counter, blowing smoke out into the cold air. “Like right now.”

From the dining room, Jisung’s voice carries through dramatically. “Hayun! Did you burn the crumble? Is that why you’re smoking?”

Hayun leans back, exhaling a stream of smoke. “No, Ji! Just needed a cigarette.”

That sets off a chorus of voices from the dining room. Changbin’s incredulous tone cuts through first. “You smoke?”

Hyunjin is right behind him. “Since when?”

Seungmin’s dry voice adds, “I thought she was too pretty for that.”

Minho steps into the kitchen just as Chan discreetly grabs the box and shoves it into his backpack. “Gimme one, Princess,” he says, his smirk lazy but warm. “Guess it’s time to come clean. I’ve been hiding my vice from you. I spray air freshener in my car every time I pick you up.”

Hayun laughs softly, tossing him the pack and her lighter. “Should’ve known you weren’t perfect,” she teases.

Minho catches them easily, lighting a cigarette. He takes a long drag, exhaling with a sigh. “Nope. Just very, very close.”

Hayun rolls her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

Chan shakes his head, glancing between them. “You two are unbelievable,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat in his voice.

Minho smirks, leaning closer to Hayun. “So, Princess, what else are you hiding? Got any other surprises up your sleeve?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Hayun replies, her tone light despite the storm still brewing in her chest. She takes another drag, blowing the smoke out the window as the faint sounds of laughter drift in from the dining room.

Minho and Hayun flick their cigarette stubs out the window, the glowing embers disappearing into the night. Minho turns back to her, leaning against the counter with a mischievous smirk. His eyes trace the red dress, the fur trim framing her shoulders and neckline, his gaze simmering with something unspoken.

“You in this dress,” Minho murmurs, stepping forward until he’s standing between her legs. His hands rest on either side of her hips, his presence warm and electric.

Hayun tilts her head, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Do you actually have a corruption kink?” she asks, her voice light but curious.

Minho nods without hesitation, his eyes darkening slightly. “You have no idea, Princess. I wanna do things to you that’ll earn us a permanent spot on the naughty list.”

Hayun giggles, her cheeks flushing as she playfully nudges his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not joking,” Minho counters, his voice dropping lower, the smirk on his lips replaced by something more intense. “I’m serious, Hayun. You’re fucking stunning in this dress, and it’s killing me.”

Her laughter softens, replaced by a warmth in her chest she doesn’t quite know how to describe. Before she can respond, Jisung’s voice echoes loudly from the dining room. “Where’s the crumble?!”

Hayun sighs, rolling her eyes as she gently pushes Minho back. “Duty calls,” she says, hopping down from the counter. “Pull the crumble out of the oven for me?”

Minho groans theatrically but obliges, grabbing an oven mitt and retrieving the bubbling apple crumble. The warm, sweet scent fills the kitchen as he sets it down on the counter. Meanwhile, Hayun pulls out a saucepan and starts whisking eggs, sugar, and milk together to make custard from scratch.

As she works, Minho grabs a bowl and starts whipping cream with a whisk, his arm moving rhythmically. “A sprinkle of cinnamon and brown sugar?” he asks, glancing at her for confirmation.

“Exactly,” Hayun replies, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.

Minho smirks, sprinkling the ingredients into the cream and continuing to whip. “What if we saved some of this cream for later?” he asks, his tone laced with suggestion.

“Oh?” Hayun hums, not looking up from the custard. “What for?”

Minho leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Princess?”

Hayun laughs, shaking her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

Minho dips his finger into the cream, gathering a dollop before swiping it lightly across Hayun’s lips. “You missed a spot,” he murmurs before leaning in and kissing her, his lips warm and soft against hers, the sweetness of the cream lingering between them.

Hayun smiles into the kiss, letting it linger before she pulls back slightly. “You’re trouble,” she says softly, her eyes glinting.

“Only for you,” Minho replies, brushing his nose against hers with a grin.

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Jisung barges into the kitchen. He stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Ewwwwww!” he exclaims dramatically, pointing at them like a kid catching their parents kissing. “Guys, they’re making out!”

Minho pulls back reluctantly, glancing over his shoulder. “Yeah? So?”

Jisung scowls, scrunching his nose. “It’s gross! Don’t do that where we eat!”

Minho smirks, turning back to Hayun. “I can’t kiss my girlfriend?”

Jisung freezes, his jaw dropping. “Girlfriend?! Oh fucking finally!” he shouts, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Took you two long enough!”

Hayun giggles, her cheeks flushing as she stirs the custard. “It wasn’t that dramatic.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Oh, it was. You two have been eye-fucking each other for months and doing all this Georgian Courting bullshit. The sexual tension was unbearable.”

Minho chuckles, leaning back against the counter. “You’re just mad it didn’t happen on your schedule, Ji.”

“Damn right I am,” Jisung huffs. “But seriously, congrats. Now get back to work; we’re all hungry as fuck out there.” He points dramatically at the crumble. “And don’t ruin the dessert with your horny vibes.”

Hayun laughs, shooing him out of the kitchen. “We’re almost done! Go sit down.”

Jisung leaves with a grumble, and Minho leans closer to Hayun again, a grin tugging at his lips. “You know, I don’t think we should let him off so easy. What do you say we feed him last?”

Hayun rolls her eyes playfully. “Be nice. It’s Christmas.”

Minho sighs dramatically, grabbing the whipped cream and placing it next to the crumble. “Fine. But only because it’s you, Princess.”

The evening settles into chaos as Minho takes over the kitchen, his usual teasing smirk replaced by an intense, no-nonsense demeanour. Pots clatter, and the savoury aromas of tteok guk, japchae, and manduguk waft through the house, but it’s hard to enjoy the mouthwatering scents over the constant barrage of Minho’s booming voice.

“Hyunjin, that’s fucking raw! Do I look like I want to kill everyone with undercooked meat?!” Minho shouts, his voice echoing through the house. "Chan what the fuck is that?!"

"How is this my fault?!”

“Because you’re holding the fucking knife, you idiot!” Minho snaps back.

From the safety of the living room, Hayun, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin sit curled up with glasses of wine, laughing as they listen to the chaos. Hayun takes a sip of her wine, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You three should probably go save your boyfriends.”

The statement lands like a grenade. Jisung chokes on his drink, Felix nearly spills his wine, and Jeongin gapes at her, wide-eyed.

“Hyunjin isn’t-” Jisung starts.

“Changbin isn’t-” Felix stammers.

“Chan isn’t-” Jeongin adds, his voice high-pitched.

Hayun grins, raising her glass. “But you all knew exactly who I meant for each of you.”

Jisung throws a hand in the air, indignant. “She gets a boyfriend and suddenly thinks she’s better than us.”

“Hyunjin, if you don’t stop fucking up those noodles, I’m going to strangle you with them! Chan, where’s the sesame oil?! Oh my god, Changbin, are you sautéing onions or murdering them?!”

Hyunjin’s voice cracks as he cries out, “Hayun, please help us!”

There’s a pause, and then Chan joins in. “Hayun, suck his dick or something! He might calm down!”

Changbin chimes in with a desperate edge, “Yes, please! Let him fuck you! Do whatever it takes to save us!”

Hayun sets her wine down and calls out sweetly, “Minho!”

A moment later, Minho pokes his head into the living room, his hair slightly mussed and his expression darkly amused. “Yes, Princess?”

Hayun gives him a mock serious look. “We’d prefer not to taste Hyunjin’s tears in our food, so maybe tone it down?”

Minho sighs dramatically, nodding. “Got it.” He ducks back into the kitchen and yells, “Hyunjin, stop fucking crying!”

Hayun shakes her head with a grin. “I tried.”

From the kitchen, Chan’s voice bellows, “No, you fucking didn’t! Suck his dick!”

Hayun rolls her eyes. “Minho, be nice!”

Minho’s tone turns mockingly gentle. “Oh, Hyunjin, you poor thing, don’t cry”

“Hayun, marry me!” A loud smack echoes through the kitchen, followed by Hyunjin’s dramatic whining. “He hit me!”

Changbin’s voice rises above the chaos. “Hayun, for fuck’s sake, help us!”

Hayun sighs dramatically but can’t help the smile playing on her lips. “Alright, alright, I’m coming to rescue you poor souls.”

She walks into the kitchen, her dress swishing slightly as she moves. The sight of Minho standing like a general in the middle of the culinary battlefield is almost comical. Seungmin calmly stirs a pot, looking entirely unbothered as Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin appear moments away from mutiny.

Minho spots Hayun immediately, and his gaze softens slightly, though he tries to maintain his no-nonsense demeanour. “You,” he says, pointing a wooden spoon at her, “do not touch anything. You may have mastered a roast, but you can’t even cook bibimbap without setting something on fire.”

Hayun smiles sweetly. “I didn’t come to cook, Min. I came to see you.”

Minho’s scowl fades completely, replaced by a smile. The shift is so sudden and drastic that Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin all exchange incredulous glances. Without a word, they drop to their knees in unison and begin bowing dramatically toward Hayun.

“Thank you!” Hyunjin cries, his voice filled with mock reverence. “Thank you for saving us!”

Chan presses his forehead to the floor. “She’s a miracle worker. A goddess among mortals.”

Changbin mutters under his breath as he bows. “We’re not worthy.”

Hayun laughs, the sound bright and light as she sets her glass on the counter. She steps closer to Minho, her hand trailing from his waist up to his chest, where she lets it rest. “Min,” she says softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “can you play nice? If you do-”

She leans in to whisper something into his ear. Whatever she says is too quiet for anyone else to hear, but the effect is immediate. Minho’s lips curve into a smirk, and his eyes darken with amusement.

Hyunjin, still kneeling, squints at them. “She’s gonna let him handcuff her or something, isn’t she?”

Chan waves a hand without looking up. “Shhhh, don’t ruin it. It’s working.”

Changbin leans toward Hyunjin and whispers, “She’s gonna be Mrs. Claus, and Minho’s gonna be Santa. I’m calling it now. Look at that fucking dress.”

Minho glances down at Hayun, his smirk widening. “Oh really?” he asks, his tone laced with teasing disbelief.

Hayun leans up to whisper something else, and this time, whatever she says has Minho chuckling lowly. He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Well, if that’s what you’re offering, Princess, how could I not be nice to them?”

Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin bow even lower, their foreheads practically touching the floor now. “Thank you, Hayun!” they chorus, their voices filled with exaggerated gratitude.

Hayun steps back, picking up her wine glass again with a grin. “You’re welcome. I’m going to be on the naughty list for life because of this.”

The trio lifts their heads enough to thank her again, their voices earnest despite the ridiculousness of the scene. Minho pulls Hayun close and presses a kiss to her temple before turning back to the stove.

As Hayun walks back to the living room, Minho’s voice takes on an overly kind tone. “Chan, you’re doing great with the beef. Hyunjin, fantastic work on those noodles. Changbin, that onion slicing is top-tier. Keep it up, guys.”

Hayun flops onto the couch with her wine in hand. Jisung looks at her suspiciously. “What did you say to him?”

Hayun shrugs, her expression innocent. “Just gave him incentive to be nice.”

From the kitchen, Minho’s voice calls out. “Hyunjin, don’t cry. You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

The living room explodes into laughter as Jisung shakes his head. “I don’t know what kind of voodoo you have over him, but I’m glad it worked.”

The living room is filled with the aroma of Minho’s cooking as he, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Seungmin bring in the dishes one by one, placing them on the coffee table and the makeshift tables Jisung hastily assembled from a few cardboard boxes.

Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin immediately turn to Hayun, bowing deeply in her direction. “Our saviour!” Hyunjin exclaims dramatically. “Our goddess!”

Chan nods solemnly, playing along. “We owe you our lives.”

Changbin smirks. “If you ever need soldiers in your inevitable world takeover, call us.”

“You’re all ridiculous,”

As everyone settles on the floor or the couches, chopsticks in hand, Hyunjin fixes Hayun with an inquisitive look. “Alright, spill. What did you say to him? There’s no way you calmed the storm that fast without some kind of wizardry.”

Minho smirks from his spot beside Hayun, leaning back on his hand. “I don’t know if your virgin ears can handle this.”

Hyunjin flips him off without missing a beat. “Fuck off. Just tell me.”

“If you must know-” Minho starts, but Hayun interrupts by grabbing a dumpling and shoving it into his mouth.

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head with a smile.

Minho chews exaggeratedly, his smirk undeterred. “Fine,” he says after swallowing, “but you just wait until later.”

Everyone groans, throwing small bits of food or napkins at Minho, who dodges effortlessly. As the meal continues, everyone digs into the feast with enthusiasm. Jisung moans dramatically after taking a bite of tteok guk.

“Holy shit, Minho, you’re wasted on Hayun. Open a restaurant already.”

Hayun swats at Jisung’s shoulder. “Hey! He’s not wasted on me.”

“You’re hogging him!” Jisung accuses with a grin. “I want weekly tteok guk deliveries.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, his tone deadpan. “You'll have to pay me.”

After everyone has eaten enough to be comfortably full, Minho stands and grabs Hayun’s hand, tugging her gently toward the stairs. “Come on, Princess,” he says with a smirk.

Hayun giggles as she follows, but the group’s attention is immediately piqued. Hyunjin leans forward, whispering, “Where the fuck are they going?”

The living room collectively peeks around the corner in time to see Minho scoop Hayun into his arms. She lets out a small laugh, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carries her up the stairs. The door to her room slams shut, and silence falls over the group for a moment.

Jisung finally breaks it, shaking his head. “Alright, everyone ready to enjoy the fucking sex-a-thon we’re about to be subjected to?”

Felix groans, flopping onto his back. “Why couldn’t they go to his house? I don’t need to hear this.”

Chan, sipping his beer, shrugs. “At least we get free entertainment.”

Twenty minutes later, the entertainment begins in earnest. The rhythmic banging of Hayun’s headboard against the wall echoes down the stairs, accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of her moaning and Minho’s grunts.

“My best friend is being corrupted by a man,” Jisung laments, though his grin betrays his amusement. “A horny, filthy man.”

Chan raises a hand, motioning for silence. “Wait,” he says, leaning closer toward the staircase. “His dirty talk is actually good. Let’s listen.”

The group falls silent, save for the clinking of glasses and the occasional stifled laugh. Minho’s voice filters down clearly, his tone low and commanding. “That’s it. Just like that. You take me so well. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Changbin’s jaw drops, his chopsticks frozen midair. “Holy shit. I’m writing this down.”

Seungmin looks over, unimpressed. “You’re disgusting.”

“Excuse me for appreciating quality material!” Changbin retorts, mock-offended.

Hyunjin crosses his arms, leaning back on the couch. “You all are acting like this is normal. It’s not. They’re up there fucking and we’re down here. Eating. Listening. This is fucked.”

“You’re still listening, though,” Jisung points out, grinning.

Felix sprawls across the couch with a groan. “Someone sedate me.”

Chan, clearly enjoying the chaos, leans back with a grin. “You know, this might actually be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

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teddybearsandspaceships · 11 months ago

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For my own memory, in the hopes that Scar will put yesterday´s stream on his VODs channel because it was amazing and featured among other things:

Scar calling Etho “the Maple Prince”

Xisuma trolling Scar by mixing up Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Star Trek, and Harry Potter

Mumbo showing Scar the llama death chamber, and Scar praising him for being weird

Scar and Mumbo having a conversation about social media and AI

Scar telling Etho not to worry and that he´s thinking about moving the mail box himself (after all he had two best-selling redstone shops so surely he´s qualified!); Etho: well now I´m worried… But right afterwards Etho says people forget that Scar is actually quite skilled at the game

Etho is just interrupting people today and Scar suggests just collecting people to procrastinate

I approve of Scar encouraging Etho to participate in MCC again

Etho asking how Scar got stamps already, Scar saying he´s been a part of a lot of Life series, Etho: “you and your wily words, you can get anything you want…”

Big Salmon decreed mercury = good

Cleo shows up! “lag busting” is the new “it lagged into my inventory”

Scar definitely not encouraging Cleo to kill all other villagers after setting up her own trading hall. Cleo wants organic free range villagers.

Cleo trying to sell the monstrosolith as a giant billboard

Cleo proved she can do valley girl voice, Scar and Etho are shocked. Then they´re discussing what "no cap" means. (Etho on stream: “big true, no cap.”) They talked about poggers, and Scar going wild with his pants off (after Cleo exploded them), and Etho didn´t know what Stitch is.

Scar starts talking about Disney and it takes him a minute to realize Cleo and Etho have run away

More maple syrup discussion (Etho telling Cleo if she likes the brand she gets it´s fine), and a frantic ride-by and log-out by Grian

Cleo and Scar want to start a cult. Etho wants to be a frat instead, something cooler. Frats have fewer rules, they´re more like “pants off, it´s fine.” Scar says he´d ask too many questions to be in a cult, Etho points out he could be cult leader. Cleo immediately offers to be his second, the person who does all the dirty work.

Shoe talk. Scar shows off his twelve-year-old shoes on stream.

Making fun of Etho´s set-up! Scar is horrified. Etho talks about his Kleenex box where his mike stands. It matches his desk! It has his settings written on it! Also his space bar broke during DO2 but he got used to it. Scar decides they need reinforcements and calls Bdubs over. Ren also shows up.

Etho mentions he didn´t get a Decked Out 2 desk mat (took to long to think about it) and Tango logs in to write in chat that he´s disappointed and logs out again

A wild Iskall approaches in the distance. Etho: trident brother!

Etho invented the minecart shuffle

Cleo: "I always want you to kill people, Scar. ...no not Etho."

And Etho leaves to shuffle snow like the Canadian cryptid he is

(how dare Ren interrupt Bdubs before he can give his current opinion on the kleenex box)

"Etho´s not one to lie" (are you sure about that? ^^)

...I look away for two seconds and did Mumbo just call himself a panda in chat. I was later told: a panda fiat! Which is a car, and Iskall is a Ferrari

Moonlanding with Gem! And some talk about bases and criticism. Gem: "I love making Etho mad," “Let Etho be mad,” What´s he gonna do, all he´s gonna do is go oh snappers ^^ "Scar, you are my Etho"

#hermitcraft #hc s10 #hermitcraft streams #gtwscar #...how did this get so long #well it was a four and a half hours stream

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deancasbigbang · 5 months ago

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Title: a few stations back

Author: Kordian

Artist: ImpMakesArt

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Past Mary Campbell/John Winchester

Length: 25718

Warnings: no archive warnings apply accidental knife cut, blood, referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism

Tags: coffee shops & cafés, past relationship, artist castiel, barista dean, second chances, reunions, setting: poland, hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, miscommunication

Posting Date: October 15, 2024

Summary: Dean’s a forty six year old coffee shop owner, which he runs with his friend Charlie. His life is peaceful, running on a stable routine he got used to years ago, but when one day he gets on the train, and sees a stranger so familiar it hurts, his world starts turning upside down, flooded with memories from over twenty years ago. Castiel is a successful children's book writer, on his way to publish his fifth book. Impulsively, he moves back to the town of his youth, and when he gets on the familiar train for the first time in over twenty years, he’s met with a stranger, whose face is so familiar he could swear he’s drawn it before. When two past lovers meet again as strangers, who will remind them of the love they once shared?

Excerpt: Sometimes, a thought crossed his mind, a thought of leaving, or just moving to a different neighbourhood, but then he never actually got to do anything about it. Always shaking it off, making it sit somewhere in the back of his head, putting it off for later. Except later never came, and every day he woke up in the same place he did yesterday, and the day before, and where he will wake up tomorrow. It never bothered him. They never bothered him, those thoughts. Perhaps because he knew he couldn’t leave, or because he just didn’t really want to.The fact is, he can’t explain why he’s having them. After all, he’s happy where he is, isn’t he? He’s got everything he always dreamed of, a lot of amazing friends, a café, he lives in a beautiful place… Yet, he feels like something’s missing. And that feeling never really went away. That tugging at his heart whenever he seemed to get too lost in his own thoughts. Where did it come from? When did it start? What is its purpose? It was a nice and quite simple life he made for himself here, and he loved it; he truly loved it. But all those years he could feel something absent from it, and he could not have ever figured out what it was before. Not that he could now, but maybe he was getting closer to it? His mind kept circling back to the stranger he saw on the train today. Those blue eyes, dark and always messy hair, and that smile. That specific smile, which was the final stamp to make sure he has seen this man before. And just when he was putting down Miracle's bowl, now filled with food it hit him. He felt like someone punched him in the gut, and he wanted to curl up right here on the kitchen floor of his apartment and pretend he doesn't exist. In that moment, he was finally able to put the stranger in the right timestamp of his memories, fit the dirty trench coat where it always used to hang before. He could put a name to his face, and not even saying it out loud, just thinking it over and over and over in his head like a broken record, hurt like a thousand needles piercing through his skin. One by one. Castiel. Castiel. Cas.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

#dcbb 2024 #fic preview #2024 promo #deancas #destiel

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traincat · 2 years ago

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You know something I just noticed? I don't... actually like Peter Parker.

No, seriously, I like the CONCEPT of Spider-Man and yeah, he's funny at times, but... I can't actually get invested in his canon self. It's ridiculous, it feels less like he's an interesting character and more being a superhero is the ONLY way to make him interesting (I know that's the charm), but...

Like, his phrase, "With great power comes great responsability", it feels... I don't know, childish? I like that nobody's FORCING him to be a hero, but he ALWAYS finds a way to make himself feel guilty over something and his assholeness is funny, but... not necessarily healthy?

The only thing going for him is Spider-Man, which ALSO destroys his life and I know that's somewhat unintentional, but I'm kinda tired of him angsting all the time. For instance: him not killing is Noble, him comiting to his City is admirable. It also makes it so he doesn't really prioritize people unless they had a HUGE impact in him and him not killing, makes the WORST consequences imaginable at times.

Or his "I know better" catastrophic. He's a good character for sure, but... I wouldn't want to be him. Like at all, his powers are cool, yet... that's it. I like his concept more than his canonical self (hell, I prefer his FANON self), the only somewhat exception is his Lego version, but that's cause everyone's sillier.

It's that weird or something? 😶

Anon I sincerely mean no offense but there's two explanations for this ask and one is that you're trolling me and the other is that you haven't really read much Spider-Man. I'm going to assume it's the second to be nice and because you've kind of hit two points that bother me in this fandom and thrown them together in the wash: the first is people forcing themselves to like Spider-Man because they feel like they should and in the process forcing him into this little box of bland and inoffensive likability (fanon Peter) and the second is just. being wrong about basic facts about Spider-Man but assuming they're right because Spider-Man being one of the most popular IPs in the world means everyone thinks they know everything about Spider-Man based on one catchphrase and half a Raimi movie.

And it makes me feel like this.

Like this is not your fault! These assumptions you've brought into my inbox are not your fault. Spider-Man marketing is set up around making people feel like they know Spider-Man and it's a fucking problem because it means people come into a six decade long soap opera with hardline beliefs already stamped on them and it is really hard to get people to change their opinions. I know! I was there! I was one of those people! Every day I'm thankful I didn't post fanfiction when I was in my early Spider-Man days because it would make me look like such a hypocrite but also I didn't know Spider-Man until I committed to reading eight thousand comics.

"Him being a superhero is the only way to make him interesting" potentially yes because one thing about Peter Parker that canon makes abundantly clear is that without Spider-Man he is a miserable fucking bastard. Like he sucks so bad. Spider-Man unleashes a deep well of empathy and kindness in him that might have existed but would not have surfaced without his experiences as Spider-Man because it was locked behind a concrete wall of bitterness twelve feet thick.

(Amazing Fantasy #15/Sensational Spider-Man #41)

"Him not killing is noble but" you're thinking about Batman. You are thinking about Batman. Spider-Man "doesn't kill" the way I'm "not writing this post right now." Peter aims not to kill. Peter talks a whole big game about not killing. His track record on that goal is not great. I have a whole post about that here. (cw for discussions of suicide related to Spider-Man vs Wolverine.)

Like, the thing about Peter and I think this is actually one of the biggest things about Peter is that you can't take what he says about himself 90% of the time too seriously. He is NOT an unbiased narrator of his own life. He will say one thing in his own internal narration and then you will be shown something completely different and you need to trust what you see and not what he tells you.

"Gee whillickers I've never done any crime" says man who literally only does crime. (Web of Spider-Man #43)

Two things can be true simultaneously: Peter can have a no kill rule and Peter can be spectacularly bad at enforcing himself on this rule, because he is a giant hypocrite who believes in double standards for himself first and not for anyone else ever after. This is part of what makes him an interesting character -- it is not hard to push Peter over that no kill line. The character will go there. It's up to the writer, then, to keep Spider-Man's I would say unearned squeaky clean no murder image by throwing a wrench into his plans.

(ASM #595/ASM #637/ASM #542)

This is not the place for my unhinged powerpoint presentation about how Marvel has backed themselves into a corner on reversing One More Day because to do so with the appropriate narrative weight calls for Peter to kill the Kingpin. He SAID he was going to kill him. And he IS. (He just didn't say he would do it right now.)

"I wouldn't want to be like him" neither would I!! But I am going to argue that this is where Spider-Man marketing has failed everybody because, while there are certainly traits about Peter you're supposed to admire (for all I have been and will keep ragging on him he is without a doubt a bottomless well of goodness and he is one of the most deeply kind, if not nice, characters in the American pop culture landscape), whether or not you want to be a character is not a good litmus test for what makes a good character.

"With great power comes great responsibility is corny" is like. Did you know that the phrase doesn't originate with either Peter or Uncle Ben. The origin of the phrase is in the ending narration of Amazing Fantasy #15, after Peter stops himself from killing the burglar who killed Uncle Ben. It is literally Stan Lee and Steve Ditko making a point to the audience, and that point was later put in Uncle Ben's mouth. Is it corny because it's actually corny? Or is it corny because it has been so endlessly parodied by bad faith actors that its meaning has been diminished? Because all the phrase is doing is pointing out that people with more power (be it physical, economic, or societal) have a greater responsibility to those with less power than them. Because Peter has these gifts, he owes it to other people to act responsibility. You can sum up Spider-Man as a story about power and abuse: the villains abuse their power. Spider-Man is different than the villains because, though he has great power, he chooses not to abuse it. Spider-Man as a character is a distillation of Tikkun Olam, a Jewish principle that means "healing the world." "You do not have to finish the work, but you cannot abandon it." This is why Spider-Man is street level. He doesn't have to finish the work. He doesn't have to save the whole world. He just has to do what is in his power to do, every single day, and that's where the conflict comes in, because it would be easier for him to walk away, but because he has the power, and because he is an ethical man, he can't. And this concept was distilled down very, very well in "with great power comes great responsibility" because it's a very simple phrase that takes a complex ethical issue and makes it easy to understand.

"Ordinary. Saddest face I ever saw. He tries to smile, but I know it hurts. This is all for my benefit. He wants me to be okay, and he's giving me this." (Spectacular Spider-Man v2 #14)

Spider-Man is not a faceless cardboard cutout you're supposed to endlessly project on and the Disneyified marketing's insistence on that is what ends up with people insisting that a character who has remained popular in the culture for six decades has zero actual personality traits and is instead just some mirror to hold up against the viewer, letting them reflect whatever they want back on him. And it sucks.

And then I, as a person who loves canon 616 Peter and think he's one of the most complex and realistic characters ever written specifically because he is so flawed, end up writing these screeds even though I told myself I wasn't doing Spider-Man discourse any longer.

me @ myself.

But like here's the thing about the second point: you are not obligated to like any character. This has been bothering me about greater Spider-Man fandom (and adaptations) for years because I think there's this incredible push for people to like Peter Parker. There's this feeling like, yeah, you have to like this guy, because he's so popular, and because so much of the marketing is based upon everyone liking him. The truth of the matter is not every character is going to resonate with every fan and that's totally normal. But there's this idea that you have to like Peter Parker especially, because he's the relatable superhero, but no one character is going to be relatable to everyone, and in order to make him more relatable to the widest audience possible (the most desirable to advertisers audience possible) (white cis goyishe straight men ages 8-40) (who might buy a sportscar) his actual personality has to be watered down as much as possible so he can be used, essentially, as a mirror to reflect the audience, instead of as a fully developed character that the audience can empathize with if not relate to. This is why the MCU movies look like that. It's why the last few comic runs have looked like that. You are not obligated to like Peter Parker if he doesn't work for you. There is literally nothing wrong with that. But so much of Spider-Man fandom is built on people who don't like canon Peter and instead erode his personality in various ways to fit him into neat little boxes which is how we end up with fanon Peter, who resembles, in practice, what you're describing a lot more than canon Peter does. And if you like fanon Peter, that's fine. Lots of people like fanon Peter! That's why he's so widespread, because he's much easier for fans to project whatever they want to on him. That's not an insult, but an observation, because I think he serves a purpose. It's not canon Peter's purpose, and it's not a purpose I personally am interested in, which is also fine, because not everything works for every person.

Canon Peter is complicated, and he doesn't always do the most likable thing, and he has a lot of flaws, but that's what makes him interesting and so fully developed. And a fully developed character is one not everyone is going to like. There's literally nothing wrong with that.

(ASM #129)

#peter parker #traincat talks comics #long post/#*replies #i literally always say i'm not doing this anymore and then i end up screaming into the void anyway #he's a character he's a real character!!!

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baekhyunsbestie · 2 months ago

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happy december besties!!! can you believe it’s already the last month of the year??? 😭😭😭 i’m so grateful to be ending 2024 with all the amazing friends i’ve made here 💖💓💞‼️‼️‼️ like you’re stuck with me now!!! for life!!!!!!! do you hear me?? there’s no escape!!! we’re holding hands through every high and low from here on out, and you’re just gonna have to deal with it!!!

do you have anything you wanna check off before the year ends? like a cute lil bucket list or something??? i really wanna write at least one more fic and set up my hobonichi planner for 2025 🥹🥰

omg wait, speaking of next year!! what are you excited about or already planning?? :’) i’m soooo excited for my tattoo appointment in march 🤩 i’m getting a tramp stamp of sukuna’s face tats (ITS GNA B SO SEXYYYY) and gojo’s six eyes curving below my right knee and wrapping under it a little aaaaahhhhhh it’s gonna hurt so fuckn bad i already know 🥹🥹🥹 i also wanna touch up my back piece before summer and maaaybe sneak in a few smaller ones too. i didn’t get ANY tattoos this year so 2025 is deffffff my year to catch up 🤣

i’ve also got some concerts, festivals, and trips planned too, so it’s looking like such a fun year ahead!!! what about you guys???? any fun plans or goals for 2025? tell me tell me tell meeeeeee 😚💞💖🎀

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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"Riddle me this, Rollo. How mad would you be if I accidentally set the shared kitchen on fire with a ramen packet? ..I may have forgot i was cooking and left it on the stove. ..for a half hour." ~ (based off a real experience of mine <3 ((i should never be trusted with a stove again))

UHHHHH... Concern????? ???? ??? ? ? ????😅 I'm glad you're safe after that incident though, Anon! Malewife Rollo cooking and cleaning for us, that's the dream/j

Like Fire, Hellfire.

Concern immediately registered on his face. His eyebrows drew together, creasing the space between them. His lips twisted into a disapproving frown before ripping open and letting loose a harsh bark.

"You fool!"

Rollo darted past you and into your kitchen, making a beeline for the stove. As you had confessed, a small yet sizable fire had consumed the far most wall, setting ragged curtains and rickety wood ablaze. Stray embers and heat fanned him as he approached, undaunted by the flames.

“R-Rollo-senpai?!” you called from the doorframe. “What are you doing? Get away from there, you’ll hurt yourself…!”

He glared at you from over his shoulder. “Who is to correct your grievous error, if not I?"

Rollo closed a hand around his wrist—a pained expression rising up. The fire was too large to be stamped out through regular means. If he didn't act fast, the flames would consume the entire building and all life within it.

The only option he had to salvage this situation was…

What I wasn’t able to do all those years back.

Rollo swallowed thickly and raised a hand. His command came loud and stern. "Begone from my sight."

The jewel set in his ring let loose a flash of cooling light. A great pillar of water crashed down upon the raging fire, strong splashback sending you hurtling back a few steps. Roaring filled your ears and dissipated just as quickly--and when you blinked again, the magical water was gone, leaving behind a broken scene ravaged by black.

The fire, extinguished.

Whoa... That's raw power right there. Sometimes you forgot just how devastating of a mage Rollo was--and the reminder of that made you shudder.

Rollo sighed and casually dusted off his shoulder, banishing an invisible fleck of ash from himself. "Let's see what the damage is."

He brisky made his way over to the stove with you trailing behind nervously. Using his handkerchief, Rollo removed the lid from the pot sitting on a burner. Lying inside was a dry lump of noodles, charred beyond belief.

Rollo replaced the lid. His facial features twitched imperceptibly as he turned his attention to you, tone icy. "How irresponsible must you be to leave food on the stove unattended to?! Fire is not an element to be trifled with!!"

His mouth pursed into a line. "It's a miracle that you haven't burned down this hovel by now."

"Eheheh... Oops?"

He found no humor in the giggle and the light-hearted shrug that accompanied it. Folding his arms, he tapped one finger. "... What do you intend to do now?"

"There's always the cafeteria," you said sheepishly.

“Its offerings are surely more healthy than whatever it was you were about to ingest. Instant ramen has enough sodium in it to kill a baby goat,” Rollo sniffed. “What of this mess you've made of your living quarters?" He gestured to their destroyed surroundings.

"You could just put it back together with magic, right? I saw that amazing spell you pulled off just now. It should be no problem for you!”

He sent you a withering look. "And reward your reckless behavior?! I've already expended enough of my time and energy on you—against my better judgment. Magic is not something to wield so flippantly!!”

“Boo, you’re no fun!”

“There is nothing ‘fun’ about this!!” Rollo retorted. Again, he had his handkerchief at his mouth, masking his open disgust. “It is about time that you assume responsibility for your own actions.”

He casted one last glare at the ashen wasteland around him. A kitchen forever scarred, the damage scorching deep.

This destruction, fun? Claimed by hellish flames, fun?

His chest throbbed.

Rollo clamped his handkerchief down even harder, crumpling the moon and the stars upon it. His breathes quickened, yet his next words were forced into an eerie calm.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see myself out. Enjoy your… meal.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #disney twisted wonderland #Reader #self insert #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Rollo at the Writing Desk

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bangaveragewhitewine · 2 years ago

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Clean Slate

Steve Harrington X Reader

It’s summer in Chicago, 1994. Being single in the city isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You feel less strong single independent woman, and more like the lonely teenager who floated between friend groups. A blind date with a familiar face might just be the clean slate you didn’t know you needed.

Clean Slate playlist

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties. Some mentions of anxiety and feeling lonely. Other than that, flirting. Steve being dreamy. No use of Y/N and the reader is referenced as a being woman.

Author’s Note: Being in your late twenties sucks, huh? I’m just getting back into writing again, inspired by the amazing authors who have made me fall in love with Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson again and again. I had such fun writing this and fucking around on Canva 💖

Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me, that’s why it sucks)

edit: Read Pinch Me a follow up to Clean Slate

This was a bad idea. With every step you took from the subway, your desire to be back on your sofa eating pasta in your pyjamas grew more and more. A blind date? You definitely hadn’t been in your right mind when you agreed to this. Thinking back on it, when had being wine-drunk with your best friend ever cultivated a good decision?

After a steady stream of bad first dates, disappointing situationships and one walking red-flag you had called your boyfriend for eight months, Annie had finally taken pity on you and took charge of setting you up with someone. Over almost room-temperature white wine and an empty pizza box, she had made you pinky-promise to trust her as Mermaids played in the background. She couldn’t stand any longer to see you cry over preppy yuppies and wannabe grungers who only wanted to meet you to hook-up or string you along (alongside several other women who also deserved better). She had seen how deep it cut when you were stood up, left waiting by the phone by some mediocre poser who had already moved on. Slurring her words, Annie had held your tear-stained face and told you that you were wasting the best years of your life on idiots who stamped on your big heart and dimmed your light. Bolstered by her words, and more wine, you ended up dancing and scream-singing in your little studio apartment to a mixtape of songs from your college days and fell asleep on your second-hand sofa with your pinky fingers linked.

A few days later, after the hangover had subsided and you had done your best to forget your tearful confession of just how lonely you felt in the city, Annie called you up to ask if you were free on Friday night. Thinking another girl’s night was on the cards, you said yes.

“Great. I have someone I want you to meet, he works with my brother. Does Hardy’s at 8 work for you?”

The pinky-promise with your best friend since college could categorically not be taken back and so you found yourself reluctantly agreeing. As long as he wasn’t a murderer, or as emotionally unavailable as your last three suitors, how bad could it be?

“Well when you fall in love and have beautiful babies, just remember who set you up, m’kay?” Annie had said when you called her up, considering cancelling. “You’re going!”

After going away to college from your small town upbringing, a move to Chicago was supposed to be the ultimate dream, but inside you still felt like the awkward teenager from Hawkins, Indiana. The outsider at every party, every hang-out at the mall or the arcade. The add-on to every friend group who said ‘you can come with us if you want to’ instead of an actual invitation. When you called your mom on the phone, she insisted that you had it all, that you were a real modern woman. She had been married and was already a mother at your age, and she was proud that you had the opportunity to be the bright independent woman you always wanted to be. It just didn’t seem so shiny now that it was your reality.

With the bar in your sights, you took a deep breath and swiped the tiny beads of sweat that gathered over the bridge of your nose. Summer in the city was heavy with humidity; you could feel the lining of your long slip dress clinging to your thighs, riding up under the delicate black floral. The claw-clip holding up your hair was truly doing the lord's work, keeping your freshly washed blow-dry blind date-ready.

You knew very little about your date - his name was Steve, he was a teacher with great hair. He was going to be wearing a blue shirt and would be on the lookout for the girl with the pink rose embroidered on her bag. Your entire outfit had been put together around the one piece you loved that could be picked out in the Friday night crowd of the bar. Classic first date; Annie was committed to helping you live the rom-com fantasy you deserved.

Des’ree’s words of wisdom, and your best friend’s blunt insistence that you were a hot bitch, echoed in your head as you took a moment to compose yourself and let your hair down over your clammy neck. Inside the bar was barely any cooler as you made your way through the stragglers from after-work drinks mingling with those who were just starting their night out. The desire to go home had never been stronger as you propped yourself by the jukebox and waited, trying not to cringe as you thought about what you looked like to the couples and groups of friends drinking and laughing around you. It felt far too similar to the house parties of your youth. What if he didn’t turn up? Or worse, what if he did and turned on his heel after realising you were his date? What could be best described as an overwhelming feeling of dread crept over you as you fidgeted with the strap of your bag, trying not to look too eager for the mystery that was Steve.

Hearing your name brought you back to reality and out of your doom-spiral. As if. Steve Harrington was making his way over, the crowd parting with ease for him. Surely you had hit your head and this was some sort of dream…

“Hey…” A smile crept onto his face as his eyes darted between you and the beacon that was the rose embroidered on your bag. A city of millions and your blind date was the boy who had defended your honour at the age of five years old after Daniel P. pushed you in the playground; Steve had called him a ‘butthead’ and told Mrs Holland on the other boy.

You hoped that the dim light of the bar hid your pink cheeks as Steve stopped in front of you, looking even more dreamy than he had at junior prom. The blue shirt made him glow golden, fitting just right over the breadth of his shoulders. His hair was coiffed perfectly, defying humidity and gravity and giving him a few more inches of height.

“Steve..” You couldn’t help a shaky laugh as the realisation washed over you both. It was easier to tune out the rest of the bar as he pulled you in for a quick but tight hug. You could have sighed at the feeling of his arms around you; you might have done just that, melted into a puddle of a girl had he not peeled away to get a good look at you. An irritating little pocket of anxiety in your chest could hardly believe he remembered you.

“Nice bag. I think you’re the girl I’ve been looking for.”

You felt like you could swoon. Or moan. Steve Harrington was effortlessly charming, more so than when he reigned in Hawkins High. Losing his crown had humbled him, that and working retail in your dead-end hometown. He looked genuinely pleased to see you, someone familiar in a city of strangers. You feel your teeth sink into the dusty-rose of your lip as you smile.

“Thanks.” You will your voice not to shake as your heart pounds hard. “Annie told me you had great hair. I should’ve known it was going to be you.”

His laugh is soft, but you can still hear it over the music and voices in the bar. With one huge gentle hand on your elbow, he steers you to the bar to order drinks, standing close enough to see the sprinkling of moles and freckles on his neck and cheek and the hair peeking from the unbuttoned top of his shirt. Steve Harrington was a man now, all grown up.

“She did, huh? I think I’ve met her once, I work with her brother,” Steve edges closer so that you could hear him. “How long’ve you been in Chicago?”

“She didn’t even know you were ‘The Hair’.” You smiled and felt the weight of his gaze; you couldn’t ignore the sparkling feeling in your tummy. “Um I left Hawkins in ‘86, went to college in Indy. Moved here in ‘93.” Steve leans in to hear you, nodding as you count up the years in your head. “You’re a teacher? So are you more Scott Clark or Coach Kelly?”

Steve laughs again and shakes his head as he pays for your drinks. “Neither. Maybe a little Clarke, without the sweater vests. I teach third grade so they would definitely roast me if I did.” He runs a hand through his hair, smirking, “But I do coach basketball after school too, you got me.” He spots a seat and steers you to a little high-top table, pulls out the stool for you before sitting opposite, visibly relaxed. There’s something about how you have bypassed the awkward introductions part of the date that makes you feel a little more at ease. But this is Steve Harrington. Any minute now he’ll make a polite excuse to leave after remembering how bookish and weird you were in school.

Except he doesn’t.

“I still can’t believe it’s you. You look great,” he says, not trying to flirt too hard. Steve is looking at you like he’s happy you’re here. Happy you’re his date.

“I can’t believe you remember me. I was.. so boring,” you laugh at your own expense before sipping your drink, looking at the ice clicking against the glass.

“Quiet maybe. Not boring though,” he ducked his head, making you look into his golden brown eyes. “Hey. Clean slate? That’s why we left Hawkins. If you can forget how much of an ass I was in high school, I can forget…” Steve pauses and hums as he thinks back.

Forgettable. Unremarkable. That’s how you felt, blending into the background everywhere you went. You hadn’t been a cheerleader, or even a band-geek. Yeah you went to parties, but usually left early. You didn’t monologue on the lunchroom tables or get detention, and in the one play you auditioned for, they asked you to paint the sets - you couldn’t fade any further into the background if you tried.

And Steve had never been an ass to you; his kingly confidence had burned fast and bright in the school halls until his fall from grace. He had always been polite, kind even; he asked to borrow a pen a few times, scolded Carol Perkins when she pushed past you and made you drop your lunch one time. He did just enough on a group project on Macbeth to keep him on your good side…

“Huh.” Steve frowns, looking a little fond as you snap yourself back to reality. “I can’t remember anything embarrassing about you. All good.”

Your cheeks flamed and you couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that bubbled up from your chest. “Smooth, Harrington. Wow, remind me how you’re single?” He was definitely just being nice. You could remind him about the time you drank way too much peach schnapps and lemonade at Tammy Thompson’s 18th birthday and had to be picked up by your mom, or when you said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’ in ninth grade - both of which still haunted you when you tried to fall asleep. But Steve just grins back at you.

“I mean it! You had that pink scrunchie permanently attached to your body, and a little snort laugh. Totally cute, not embarrassing at all.” He stays smiling as he sips his beer, seeing how you’re stunned that he remembers. Not smug, totally hot and he’s not even trying. You’re aghast.

“You remember my fucking scrunchie…?” “If you tell me you still have it…” “Steve, it’s literally on my bedside table.”

Steve’s laughter makes you join in, snorting involuntarily as your shoulders shake, which just makes him laugh more. It's been a long time since a date made you laugh like this, let alone feel like you’re floating.

When you both settle, Steve reaches over and takes your hand. You remember how you had wondered how holding his hand might feel when you saw him walk Nancy Wheeler to class way back when. It felt better than you ever dreamed it might.

“Hey. Lemme tell you something, when I saw you over there I wanted to come right up and say hi. And then I saw your bag…it made my week.”

Butterflies soar in your belly and you feel your cheeks heat up again. “Steve..”

“But just know, I thought you were cute in school. I just.. had my own shit going on and I was pretty shitty for a few years. So if you can give a reformed asshole a chance, I’d love to hear about how you’ve been, and actually get to know you.”

Steve squeezes your hand as CeCe Peniston sings Finally to the bar. The song totally sinks in now as you squeeze Steve’s hand in return, making him beam a smile your way.

“Okay, Clean slate. But Steve? I totally had a crush on you. Even when you were doing keg stands and goofing around in math.” You make him smile even brighter, even as he shakes his head.

“So cute. Damn, you’re definitely trouble.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” You raise a brow and sip your drink again, feeling less anxious now. The drink helped, but knowing that you could make an impression on Hawkins High royalty was certainly bolstering.

“One question. Very important.” You straighten up before leaning toward him, almost conspiratorially. You don’t miss how his eyes dip to your lips before meeting your gaze.

“Go for it.” “Are you sure about the sweater vests? I think you could really make them work.”

Now it’s your turn to grin into your glass as Steve throws his head back. “Oh I’m so in trouble with you.”

He lifts his glass, meeting you in the middle to clink it against yours with a signature Steve Harrington wink. Maybe something good could come from a wine-soaked pinky promise.

bonus Steve inspo for the girlies who made it to the end - ily💖

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington is a total dreamboat #my fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x f!reader #bangaveragefics

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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I'm a newbie writer and something I struggle with is that my ideas are too big and I feel overwhelmed, and I never really had a short story idea that I liked. I'm already trying to consume short stories (written works and video fiction), so I wanted to know if you have other tips to develop small ideas, ideas better suited to short stories.

Newbie Writer Struggling to Write Short Fiction

Short fiction is a great way to practice writing, but if you struggle to come up with ideas, that doesn't help much. One thing that can help is to remember that short stories don't work like longer stories/novels. You're not developing a whole cast and world around a big conflict. Short stories are pictures within pictures.

If The Hunger Games was a short story, it would probably be Katniss waking up, walking through her district, hunting with Gale, and then Prim getting chosen in the Reaping. That would be the whole story. She was so fixated on the fear of herself or Gale getting chosen--which there was such high odds of happening because she'd put her name in so many times in exchange for food stamps--the last thing she ever expected was her sister being chosen. That's the twist... that's the point of the whole short story. If Twilight were a short story, it would probably start with Bella's first day at Forks High School, would follow her introduction to the Cullens, the weirdness with Edward as her crush slowly developed, and would probably end with her finding out he's a vampire. It could even go a little further to where they date, then Edward's brother almost kills her, and he breaks up with her in the middle of the woods--gone from her life as quickly as he got there.

If you're struggling to find short story ideas that you like, try looking for writing prompts. They're all over tumblr, you can find books filled with them, there are lists of them all over the web. Writing prompts can fire up your imagination without you having to pluck an entire idea out of the air. Another option is to do memoir-style short stories. Instead of trying to write something more elaborate, just take a notable experience you've had in life and... if you want, you can fictionalize it. For example, maybe you have a funny memory rooted in a friend's birthday party. Write about that. If you want to, you can even fictionalize it... what if it happened to someone else? What if the funny thing that happened was something different? What if the outcome was different?

The thing to remember is this: when you're writing short stories for writing practice, they don't have to be perfect or even good. You're not writing these for publication or sharing. You're writing these to learn how to craft sentences, write description, develop characters, and flesh out setting. The first time you take a lump of clay and try to make a bowl, it's not going to be amazing. Neither will the second, third, or fourth one. But as you master the basics, learn new methods, get better with tools and find new ones, your bowls will get better and better until they're something you can share. You have to let yourself make some misshapen and unappealing bowls if you want to learn to make nice ones. Writing works the same way. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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gingerjunhan · 1 year ago

Text

boyfriend headcannons - goo gunil

☆彡 I felt burnt out after working on an essay all day, so what did I do? Went to my dorm and wrote some more! I’ve seen other blogs do little series like this with groups, so I wanted to give it a try! I hope you all enjoy!

word count: 777 | pronouns used: they/them | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: reader is called “beautiful,” cringe moments /pos, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death (in a joking way), my delulu thoughts, all caps, lmk if I missed anything else!

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Gunil strikes me as they type of boyfriend that would try to make your life feel like a rom-com

he definitely strikes me as one of the more romantic ones in the group, but probably in a more goofy way than Jungsu or Seungmin would be (but more on that later)

yes he’s buying you flowers every time he passes a flower stand

yes he leaves those cheesy little notes about how beautiful and perfect you are in your lunch that you take to school or work

yes he reminds you every day that you’re quite literally the light of his life and he wouldn’t be the same person without you

but I truly believe this man can get weird

like, very very strange

in the most endearing way… he’s cringe

let’s unpack that

starting off strong:

“Good morning sunshine!”

some find that cringe, but I’m kicking my feet so 🧍🏻‍♀️

the pet names… oh god the pet names

I know I have a whole fic on this topic already but I feel the need to say more for Gunil

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, “sweetums”

“precious”

I’m sorry but he gives me “bubs”/“bubby” vibes

listen I don’t hate that one as much as other people okay hear me out

“angel” probably happens on rare occasions

I could go on

he may be cringe but he is free!

but it’s okay because you totally call him silly names back

you love him no matter what

you know who else loves him?

your parents

he’s shaking hands and being overly friendly, and your parents are eating it up!!!!

let's say you bring him over for dinner:

“You have such a lovely home!”

“Do you need help with anything? I can set the table!”

“The meal was amazing. (Y/N) clearly didn’t get their cooking skills from you!”

“Gunil what the hell-“

the next time your parents invite him over he definitely shows up with dessert, wine, a side dish, something

he 100% gets the parental stamp of approval 👍🏻

okay I’m sorry but we need to talk about Gunil and intimacy keeping it G y’all c’mon now

he :(( is the sweetest :(((( ever :(

he knows he’s strong so he tries to be so gentle with you

if you want him to hold you tight he absolutely will

but Gunil strikes me as a soft intimacy type of guy!!

soft, calming, long hugs

sweet compliments whispered between you during a cuddle secession

cuddle secessions :(

if he doesn’t cuddle with you before bed he literally acts like he’s on the brink of death

gently holding your hand at almost all times

like I’ve said, I think Gunil likes PDA

so he’s got a grip on your hand at all times in public

I also think that Gunil would be the type to wash your hair for you

I’m melting right now

imagine it like,,,, oh my god

Gunil knows you’ve been stressed and he can see how hard you’re working and how much the stress is affecting you so he offers to help you relax

he runs a nice bath for you

lights a few candles

and then if you’re comfortable with it he’s right by your side, absolutely pampering you and washing your hair :(

can we tell that he’s been bias wrecking me really really hard lately? yes? okay

but these gentle moments don’t last forever

he’s you’re hype man all the time every day

“You look so good baby! I love your outfit today! C’mon, give me a spin- OH MY GOSH youlooksogood!”

gives you those hugs where he gets really excited and picks you up and spins you in circles

Gunil definitely gives me the vibe that he would totally put his full body weight on you if you wanted him to

just *plop*

okay okay so we all know how Gunil is the only member of xh who can drive yes?

do you think he like,, does the thing? 🤭 when he puts the car in reverse? 🤭 because guys I think he does 🤭

I’m a firm believer in the fact that Gunil would quite literally be the most perfect man on the face of the earth (totally unbiased opinion!)

he always encourages you to try new things- even if they scare you- and always reach for your goals!!

he’s so supportive and full of love for you and he’s gonna be by your side every step of the way and MAN I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH—

final closing thought but imagine sitting on his lap while he teaches you how to play drums EEE okay I need to stop

#xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes imagine #xdh x reader #xdh imagines #xdh fluff #xdh scenarios #gunil x reader

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kimmiessimmies · 1 year ago

Text

Make this night count...

"Look at all the colours! Isn't it pretty, James?"

"Very. The view is great from up here."

"It was a good idea to book this room for tonight."

"I'm full of good ideas."

"We have made things difficult for her this year, haven't we, James?"

"For whom, lovely?"

"Our author. This. Us. It was never part of her plan, was it?"

"No, but, haven't we also made things great for her?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, we've made things great for us, either way, Sade."

"Cheers to that, lovely."

"Sade..."

"Hmm...?"

"You wouldn't let me kiss you under the mistletoe because of where it might lead, but... since we're here now... Will you let me kiss you for New Year's?"

"Umm... No, I don't think so...

"Oh... Sorry..."

"I'm not going to let you kiss me for New Year's, James, because I'm going to kiss you first."

"Wha..."

"Happy New Year, you."

"Happy New Year, my girl..."

......

....

...

"James?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think she'll let us be together in the new year?"

"We'll have to see, love... Let's make this night count while we're here..."

My dear followers,

This year has been very... intense... for me. I already wrote a long post about my mental health struggles, which put a huge stamp on my year. However, 2023 will also forever be the year I went back to my Sims, back to my stories, and back to Tumblr.

I spent five years away. Both because real life took over and because I had gotten into a rut with my Sims and the story. I never forgot them, though, and never stopped loving them. And suddenly, somewhere in February, it clicked. Everything fell into place, and I knew where I wanted to go with it all. In fact, it was this boy up here, my dearest James, who pulled me back. His story was suddenly clear as day to me. But how to begin? So, in March, I decided to just start writing. Then, I dusted off my game, found that all shortcuts and cheats were apparently in my muscle memory, and started shooting pictures to go with what I had written. And once I got going, I didn't stop. Everything I wrote in 2023 (and that's a lot!) even if it seemed unrelated, was geared towards James's story and the big moment that still lies ahead. However... As I've emphasised several times by now, I didn't account for this girl... So now it's like James said, "We'll have to see."

Coming back to my story brought me so much this year; I went from gameplay-based to story-based and found out how much I truly LOVE writing and how much it helps me, especially now that I'm going through rough times. Encouraged and inspired by someone dear to me, my story gained a title and came to Tumblr in full. I learnt to not only accept the benefits of poses, but how incredibly enhancing they can be to bring my ideas to life when used right. I reconnected with old contacts and made new connections too, some of whom proved to be true friends outside of this Tumblr/Sims world too. I've loved getting caught up on the stories I used to follow and discovering new ones. I've been amazed at how good CC has become in five years and pleasantly surprised to see there's still a good crowd playing TS3 in addition to the great things some of you are doing with TS4. All of this has been bright spots in my darkness.

And now we're entering 2024. I hope it will be light and bright for all of us. May the good days outnumber the bad ones and may we continue to feel the joy these little pixel-people bring us. Happy New Year to you and yours.

Much love. ❤️

-Kim

P.s. I know, I know; Some of you are now very disappointed you didn't get to see James and Sadie "making the night count." Just for all of you filthy animals I have one more post in this non-canon series set to go. Be forewarned; this one is very NSFW (And Not Suitable To View At New Year's Parties With Lots Of People Around) and will be labelled mature. I also have a sneaking suspicion it'll take Tumblr about 3 seconds to take it down, so I have an alternative post with Pillowfort link waiting in the wings. Going live as the the New Year hits where I am, at midnight GMT+1. See them making the night count by clicking here!

#this is obviously non canon again #My Jadie love is strong...#atoh New Years message #atoh au #Sims NYE #both sims and non sims #personal #long post #the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #sadie stevens #james wyler

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empirearchives · 1 year ago

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I want to learn more about Napoleon and Josephine’s relationship. Can you tell me about it?

Of course! I love talking about Napoleon and Josephine’s relationship 💕💕💕

Let’s see. Well, Josephine was Napoleon’s first wife, and Napoleon was Josephine’s second and final husband.

They were married in 1796 when Napoleon was 26 and Josephine was 32. Their marriage lasted until December 1809, when Napoleon was 40 and Josephine was 46. They separated for political reasons, and Napoleon said “She has graced fifteen years of my life, and the memory of this will remain for ever stamped on my heart.” (Sergeant, The Empress Josephine; Napoleon's Enchantress Volume 2, p. 517)

Long periods of their marriage were spent apart due to the war. Josephine wrote to Napoleon when he was far away in Warsaw in 1807: “I took a husband in order to be with him!” (Castelot, Napoleon, p. 320)

Other times were spent traveling and living together. They had no natural children together, but Napoleon adopted Josephine’s children from her first marriage.

It was not an arranged marriage set up by their parents. In fact, Napoleon did not even ask for his mother’s permission (or tell her until after), which was considered to be disrespectful as it broke traditional Corsican custom. Napoleon’s parents had an arranged marriage when they were teenagers. Josephine’s first marriage was arranged when she was a teenager. Napoleon set up many of his relatives marriages. But Josephine and Napoleon’s marriage was a love match, so in that way, it was unique.

Josephine was Napoleon’s “star” or memento of good luck. When they got together, he got her a medallion that said “To Destiny” which is really quite prescient considering that they had no idea then what an amazing and extraordinary destiny they would have together. Together they lived through wars, created and broke empires. They ushered in the modern era and played a key role in all its hopes and sorrows. The years in which they were at the forefront were ones of incredible social, cultural, economic and political transformation.

Many details of their relationship are murky. Unfortunately, not a lot of writing from Josephine has survived, though there is some. However, we are very lucky that Josephine saved so many of Napoleon’s letters to her and kept them safe, so they have survived when so many other letters have not.

One of the appealing aspects of their relationship and the reason why a lot of people find it fascinating is because it is considered to be a more “equal” relationship, relatively speaking when considering the standards of the age. In many ways (though not all), it was actually a reversal of norms. It was not a child marriage. It was not an arranged marriage. It was a rare case of a man marrying an older woman instead of a younger woman. At the beginning of their relationship, it was Josephine who had greater influence (though Napoleon would quickly become the more dominant one). In actuality, Josephine had a lot of issues, but she did come from the old French aristocracy and she was also part of the social circle of wealthy and politically powerful French elites. Napoleon did not come from either group. From his perspective, Josephine was a glamorous and alluring figure. She was part of an exclusive world that was out of reach for people like him and so many others. So what you see, Napoleon married up the social ladder.

What is interesting is that Josephine technically married down the social ladder and she managed to pick the one who would make her an empress. It is quite an ironic twist of fate. Who could have seen it coming?

But you know, she found him alluring too, and saw something fascinating in him. This is what Josephine said after meeting Napoleon for the first time: “His piercing look has something about it quite mysterious which impresses even the directors.” (Zamoyski, Napoleon: A Life, p. 106)

She described him as having “the strength of a passion of which he speaks with a force which does not permit any doubt as to its sincerity.” (Zamoyski, Napoleon: A Life, p. 106)

Her first impression of him was of someone who she found to be both unsettling and extraordinary.

There was infidelity in their marriage. First by Josephine, then mostly by Napoleon. They kind of mirrored each other. At first Napoleon was passionately devoted to Josephine, whereas she was unfaithful. Then Napoleon felt quite alienated and betrayed by that, so he became more guarded. Whereas Josephine fell increasingly more in love with Napoleon and was loyal to him, while he was the one being unfaithful and having affairs.

After their marriage ended, Napoleon continued to support and provide for Josephine for the rest of her life. He was no longer her husband, but he was her “protector”. They saw each other in person less and less. That’s not to say that they forgot about each other or ever stopped caring about each other.

This is from a letter to Josephine that Napoleon wrote when he abdicated and was headed to his first exile in 1814:

“Farewell my dear Joséphine, resign yourself just as I do and never lose the memory of the one who has never forgotten you and never will forget you.” (Lentz, Napoléon: “My Ambition Was Great”, p. 131)

I genuinely believe that Josephine died of a broken heart, even though it sounds cheesy. It’s impossible for me to believe that it was just a coincidence when considering the timing. She “caught a chill” a few weeks after Napoleon fell, and she never recovered. When Josephine learned about Napoleon’s exile to Elba, she said “If it were not for his wife I would go lock myself up with him!” (Erickson, Josephine: A Life of the Empress, p. 337)

She wrote to her son on 9 April 1814: “What a week I have spent, my dear Eugene! How I have suffered at the way they have treated the emperor! What attacks in the newspapers, what ingratitude on the part of those upon whom he showered his favors! But there is nothing more to hope for. All is finished.” (Erickson, Josephine: A Life of the Empress, p. 335)

She died on 29 May 1814, the month after Napoleon abdicated. Napoleon never saw her again. When he was younger, he wrote to her: “Have a good rest. Haste to get well. Come and join me, so that, at least, before dying, we could say—‘We were happy for so many days!!’” (Hall, Napoleon's letters to Josephine)

And I think they truly spent many happy days together. In 1814, Napoleon was speaking to Caulaincourt about Eugène (Josephine’s son), and he said “His mother made me very happy. Those are the sweetest recollections of my life.” (Knapton, Empress Josephine, p. 317)

Different people have different opinions, but I think they were soulmates or perhaps even toxic soulmates. They had a turbulent relationship, and of course they had flaws. Both of them were unfaithful, dishonest, toxic and possessive. But their strengths and weaknesses complemented each other a lot and they seemed to genuinely love being together. In the end, it was a rare and unique love.

#napoleon and josephine #napoleon #Josephine #josephine bonaparte #josephine de beauharnais #napoleon bonaparte #empress josephine #ask #asks #napoleonic #napoleonic era #first french empire #19th century #french empire #1800s #france #french revolution #history #french history

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I like to make a request, but I want to ask if you could do a Pokemon x Pokemon! Reader (ex. Pikachu x Eevee! Reader), if so is it okay to request it?

Fem Reader as Decidueye with Male Hisuian Decidueye, who somehow came to the modern/present time. Platonic/Romantic

(Thank you and hope you doing well!)

I’ve never written something like this before, but I would like to give it a try!

-You huffed softly, watching your trainer, Timmy, fiddling with his machine again, a time machine is what he called it, you just thought it was a pain as it had set the lab and Timmy on fire twice now.

-He turned, hearing your huff, beaming brightly, “It’s almost ready Y/N! I know it! This time it will work!” you ruffled your feathers lightly, shaking the tension out of your body as you were preparing to stamp out the fire again.

-The machine came to life, mechanisms coming to life, and you paused, this was different- you didn’t know why or how, but this was different, and you grabbed Timmy, hauling him back by his lab coat in your beak, just in case before a bright flash of light stunned you both and a loud BOOM was heard, as the machine finally exploded.

-As the dust cleared, your trainer opening a window, you both froze, seeing a Pokemon lying there, one that looked similar to you, but it was different.

-Timmy went to rush over, looking excited as this other Decidueye leapt up, swinging out with a kick to keep your trainer away, thinking he was a threat, and you were quick to rush forward, holding an arrow, ready to fire after you knocked him back, catching him off guard.

-Once he didn’t move, only staring up at you in awe, he knew you were a Decidueye like he was, but you looked so different compared to others, you backed off, *Don’t attack my trainer and we won’t have problems.*

-He just nodded, agreeing before you turned to Timmy, who felt your icy gaze as you were quickly scolding him, *Who runs up to a Pokemon that you know nothing about?! What if I wasn’t here- what if he attacked you?!*

-Timmy was begging up at you, knowing that you were scolding him, “I’m really sorry for scaring you Y/N- I was just so excited!” you huffed, your feathers ruffling again as the newcomer got up.

-You could tell that this one was tamed, it had a trainer, one Timmy probably just kidnapped him from, as he wasn’t wild, allowing Timmy to inspect his wings and body- he was like a researcher.

-He looked over at you, trying to ease a bit of the tension, as you didn’t fully trust him, *So your name is Y/N?* you nodded softly, *That is the name my idiot friend gave me when I was a Rowlett. Do you have a name?* he shook his head, not looking bothered, *I don’t, my trainer just called us by what we are.*

-Just like him, you weren’t bothered, as you knew lots of trainers did that as Timmy finally spoke, “Amazing! So Hisuian Decidueye were grass and fighting types! This is amazing!” he then started to go on a rant as you sighed softly, knowing that he would be like this for at least an hour.

-You turned, moving towards the open door that led into the house, *C’mon- I’ll show you around. It will be good for you to see how things have changed.* He wasn’t sure by what you meant but followed after you.

-You were a little standoffish at first, but you were like that with everyone, something Timmy told him about, as he could tell that he liked you, probably because you were so different than others of his own species he was probably used to.

-He was very blunt about his affections towards you, not beating around the bush like other Pokemon who had tried to flirt with you- it was strange, but also a bit refreshing, as you appreciated his honesty about his intentions on courting you.

-That didn’t mean you were going to make it easy however, playing hard to get, but he was focused, wanting only you, despite meeting the other Pokemon that lived at Timmy’s lab alongside you, despite you and now this other Decidueye being his only Pokemon, as others were curious about him, he only had eyes for you.

-His tenacity was cute, you felt flattered that he was trying so hard and over time, you slowly fell for him, just little by little, but that’s all he needed, just a chance to prove himself to you.

#pokemon #decidueye #pokemon x reader

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year ago

Text

I Vow

Part 5 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Description: A year long engagement wasn't in the cards for you at all. But when the US Navy calls, your fiancé had to answer the call. So for most of your engagement, you've been planning the wedding with Jake signing off on the wedding via video calls and phone calls snuck in moments between hops. It's draining on you. Even with your mom and Maria Seresin taking the reins, all you want is Jake by your side at the end of the day. When Jake suggests eloping the day after he gets back, you get a fantastic idea. Having a wedding in Maverick's hangar with all of your favorite people there. The only trick? Making it a surprise for Jake.

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: None! This chapter is sweet and fluffy!

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 4815

A/N: I can't believe it, but this is the last official chapter of YPSGYWSP! My first series, almost over! You'll excuse me if you hear some sobbing in the background as you read this chapter, right? We'll have an epilogue for Jake and Bitsie, so look out for that in the upcoming weeks! The bold and italicized parts are lyrics from the song Steal The Show by Lauv. Kudos to @mayhemmanaged for introducing the song to me! I love you all, and thanks so much for reading this story as I write it! - XOXO Star

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

"Bitsie, can you hear me?" Just the sound of Jake's voice makes you smile, grainy and choppy as it is. He's been deployed for nearly a year and you miss him so much that it feels like you're walking around with a missing limb.

"Yeah, Jakey. I can hear you. How are you, my darling? I miss you so much." You're so happy to hear from him that just hearing his voice soothes fears you only just seem to uncover every time you hear his voice.

"I'm alright, my Bitsie-girl. Tired all the time because apparently I can't sleep anymore unless you're in my bed. And I miss you too, sweetheart. So much. I'm sorry I left you to the mercy of my mom and sister while you're planning this wedding." He really does sound exhausted, his voice raspy in a way that makes you feel so fond.

"Don't apologize, Jakey! Your mom and Brianna have been amazing. Honestly, they've taken all of the planning out of my hands once I told them what I - what we - wanted. When my mom joined in, I really didn't have to do anything at all, other than stamp my seal of approval over everything." His love warms you from head to toe and is so apparent even just over the phone.

"Mmmm… God, I miss being able to see your pretty smile, baby girl." You can see the smile on his face and the look in his green eyes with every word he speaks.

"I miss you too, Jake. Home doesn't feel like home without you in it."

It really doesn't. Your life feels empty without him in it.

"I really wish I hadn't been selected for this mission so soon after we got engaged. But, it's the Navy."

"It's the Navy." You blurt out in unison with him, gasping the minute you realized what you said. His quiet laughter sets you off until you're giggling giddily while lying in bed.

"I know our families have been making all of these plans, but I have a suggestion." You're intrigued despite yourself, because while you'd made plans for your wedding, all you really need for it to be the best day is Jake by your side.

"What if we get married the day after I land? You grab Mara, I'll grab Javy and Mickey and his family and we run off to City Hall and get hitched. Cause Bitsie, baby, I can't wait another minute longer to call you my wife."

The more you think about it, the more you adore this idea. Jake is all you need.

"But won't you miss having your Mama there, Jakey?"

"Of course I will, sweetheart. She raised Brie and me all by herself while running a farm. But I don't want to wait a single minute longer. I just want to marry you, Bitsie baby." Just as you open your mouth to respond, you hear the beep indicating that your time is up.

"I love you, Jake."

"I love you, Bitsie. Goodnight, baby doll. Sleep tight."

When you hear the dial tone, you hang up, letting your phone drop down onto the sheets beside you. For all of the rumors about Jake, you know he loves his mom and sister. It doesn’t feel fair that you’ll be robbing the chance to celebrate with his family from him. Your own parents aren’t likely to be thrilled either. They love Jake and how happy he makes you. What if you plan to have the ceremony on the beach? Invite only your immediate family and your closest friends and have one of the admirals officiate?

You never thought your parents or Jake’s mom would latch onto the idea as well as they have, but they adore the idea. Before you can blink, it’s the day before Jake’s due to come home and you’re scrambling to make sure everything’s ready. You’ve called all of his squadron and Javy and made sure they all know the plan for the day after they get back. You’ve also found hotel rooms for your parents and Jake’s mom and Brianna. Everything is ready. All you’re missing for your wedding is your groom.

You wake up on the morning Jake’s due to come back to a voicemail. “Hey beautiful. I’m sorry, but it looks like we’ll be coming home a bit later than expected. There are storms which are slowing our progress. Everything’s alright. I miss you so much, baby and I’ll see you soon. I love you, my Bitsie-girl. Next time I see you, I’m marrying you.”

It’s with a heavy heart that you call your family and Jake’s informing them of the unforeseen delay. You head into work that day, vowing to keep your days off for your honeymoon, something else that you’ve planned extensively with flexible rescheduling policies. Everybody is more than a little surprised to see you, especially since it seems like everyone on base knows what you and Jake have planned. Admiral Simpson even pulls you aside, asking if everything is okay and that he is pulling all the strings to make sure Jake gets home to you as soon as possible.

His gruff concern makes you feel weepy, sad, and sorry for yourself, so much so that you’re brushing away tears as you join Mara in your lab on base. Thankfully she keeps the conversation light and about the work you’re doing rather than focusing on Jake’s absence from your life. That’s how your day goes. It feels like time is passing by in a trickle and the worry deep in your gut feels more and more like a tempest in your gut. But somehow you managed to push the thoughts away, immersing yourself in your work. The day passes in a haze and you’re startled out of your meditative state to the feeling of someone patting your arm to get your attention. You push away from your desk and stretch, relishing in the pull of tight muscles that have been locked in the same position for far too long.

“Yeah, Mar?” Your voice is garbled around a yawn as you turn around.

Mara hasn’t been shaking your arm at all. It’s Jake!

“Jake?” Your eyes widen in surprise, disbelief coloring your tone at the sight of him standing in your lab when you were least expecting him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s me. Even a storm couldn’t keep me away from you.” You launch yourself into his arms before he even finishes speaking, kissing his smiling lips and sobbing into his shoulder.

“Jake! I missed you so much. How are you?” You’re babbling even as you’re examining everything about him. Other than the exhaustion on his face, and a few new lines he looks just like you remember him.

“I’m fine, Bitsie. Breathe.” His eyes twinkle in the waning sunlight as he tugs you close and kisses you, sweet and slow. Your arms rise to wrap around his neck unbidden even as your fingers grasp his curls tenderly. You’re breathless and weak-kneed when he pulls away and he knows it too, if the smirk on his gorgeous golden face is any indicator.

“Take me home, beautiful.” You’re only too eager to comply, shoving your files and laptop into your bag in such a hurry that Mara is laughing at you the entire time. Jake’s hand feels so good in yours that you feel like you’re dreaming the entire walk to the parking lot. You’re so thankful you have Jake’s truck on base because you can chuck his bag into the backseat and kiss him until your lips are spit slicked and red and all you can smell are the faded notes of his cologne and jet fuel.

“Home, baby. I want to feel you on my skin after so long without you.” You’re surprised you don’t break any speed limits on the way home, what with Jake’s hand on your thigh and the way it brushes closer and closer to the seam of your leg. You’re keyed up and nearly panting when you get home. It’s a huge deal that you manage to text Brianna and your mom to tell them Jake’s home, because that’s all the contact you have with your family and Jake’s until the next morning.

Jake wakes you up the following morning with a cup of coffee and a huge smile on his face.

“Wake up, Bitsie baby.” You love that he’s a morning person, truly you do, but you maybe love it a little more when he hasn’t kept you up until 3 AM the night before.

“We’re getting married today!” Your eyes jolt open at his words, because for this, you’re just as excited as he is. Your wide smile matches his even as you snuggle into his side with your coffee in hand.

“I can’t wait, Jake.” Your voice is sleep-rough and soft, as you sip on the hot liquid, prepared how you like it. “M’gonna be yours forever soon. Sorry, there’s no return policy here.”

“I could never return you. I love you too much to do that.” Jake kisses your forehead before pulling away. “Javy’s picking me up soon, baby. I know I’m technically not supposed to see you until we actually get married, but I needed to kiss you good morning before I left and to tell you I love you.”

Your smile is soft as you take in the soft henley and shorts he’s wearing. You hadn’t even noticed he was dressed for the day.

“I love you, Jakey. I’ll see you when we get married.” His grin is as bright as the sun as you shuffle downstairs and wave goodbye to Jake and Javy as they leave.

You don’t get much time to yourself however, as Mara and Brianna pull into the driveway not long after. You have no idea what they have planned, especially since you aren't having a bachelorette party, but wanted to spend some time with your friends the day of your wedding as well.

"Where are we going?” When neither Brie nor Mara respond, you buckle in for the ride, content in the knowledge that Jake is alright and in the feeling of the sun on your face. You must fall asleep in the backseat because you wake up to Mara and Brie both grinning wickedly at you.

“Damn, Bitsie! Jake really must’ve worn you out last night!” Mara’s got a shit-eating grin on her face even as Brie gags behind her.

“I can neither confirm nor deny, Mar. Especially since his little sister is right there.” Your voice is wry as you get out of the car and take in the beautiful desert view.

Brie just cackles before wrapping you up in a hug. “I know he fucks, Bits! He’s never hid that from me. I just like you too much to think about you and my brother like that. You’re too good for him, you know that?” Her voice is soft as she takes your hands in her own. “You make him so happy. I love seeing him like that. You keep him that happy and we’ll never have problems. And he’d better keep you that happy too. Or I’ll be having problems with him. He knows that, Bits.”

Your eyes are misty as you hug your soon-to-be sister-in-law for several long moments before wiping at your eyes and gesturing to the colossal building in front of you.

“So what are we doing here, you two?”

“We’re having a spa day! So we’re going to get you all pampered and ready for Jake to sweep you off of your feet!” Where Brie leaves off, Mara continues. “We’ve got bottomless champagne, massages, mani-pedis, face masks, mud baths and more planned.”

When you just blink at them, because you’re sure you’re hearing things, they both just drag you into the facility after them.

Six hours later, you walk out of the spa with your hair and makeup done and feeling more relaxed than you’ve ever been in your whole life. Every knot in your body has been pounded into submission and you’re so excited you think you’re likely to start crying if you think about Jake waiting for you in his service whites. You’re that happy that he’s home, that he’s safe, and that you’re finally going to be tied together for every struggle that life brings. The mood is light between Mara, Brianna and you as the three of you scream lyrics out the open car windows on your way further into the desert.

The midday sun is just beginning to set when the three of you pull into the parking lot near Mav’s colossal desert hangar. It’s here that you and Jake will be getting married, officiated by Mav, with all the Daggers in attendance, as well as your immediate family, Jake’s mom, and Brianna. But you don’t get to see the magic Penny and both your moms have wrought on the hangar, as you’re immediately led by Mara into the trailer Mav has behind the hangar the minute the car stops. Your mom’s waiting there, to help you into your dress and Brianna and Mara into their bridesmaid dresses.

Your dress is simple, knee length with lace all over and a flared silhouette. It’s not a conventional wedding dress by any means, but you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when you look at yourself in the mirror. As a final touch, you wear the heirloom emerald necklace and earring set that Maria Seresin wore on her wedding day as well as the shoes that match. Your mom is misty-eyed as she draws the veil over your head.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Jake’s not going to be able to take his eyes off of you.” She wipes the tears from under her eyes. “Your dad’s waiting to walk you down the aisle, darling. He’s already made Jake promise to take care of you when he called to ask us permission to marry you. So this moment, it’s just about you and the man you love. We’re so proud of you. And we love you, so much.” Her voice cracks for the last few words and that’s when your own tears spill over.

You thank everything you know that the ladies at the spa used waterproof makeup on your face, because without it, you’d look a mess. You hug your mom tight and watch her go with the oddest feeling in your chest. You feel like you’re on the precipice of something unknown, and while you’re filled with the deepest joy you’ve ever felt, you can’t help feeling melancholic. You want to marry Jake, you love Jake, but marrying him feels like you’re shutting the doors to the life you lead before. It’s a challenge you’re willing to undertake, but it feels awfully final, taking this step.

“You look beautiful, honey. Are you ready? You can tell me, you know?” Your dad sounds so sad to give you away.

“Tell you what, dad?” You wrap your arms around your dad’s frail form and wonder when he started to grow old. This is the man who held your hand when you were learning to walk, the man who taught you how to ride a bike and drive a car.

“If this boy isn’t who you want to marry, just tell me and I’ll help you run away, okay?”

You have to laugh at his words, though your giggles are choked with tears. “I’m sure, dad. Jake’s the man I love, the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I had to try, honey. I’m so proud of you, of everything you’ve accomplished as a woman, and I look forward to everything you accomplish as a wife.” You’re nearly sobbing again at the soft kiss your dad presses to your forehead. You brush the tears away and ready yourself to walk down the aisle towards the man who will be the rest of your life.

You cradle the bouquet of pale pink roses and baby’s breath in your right hand while you loop your other arm through your dad’s.

“I won’t let you fall, honey. I didn’t when you were learning to walk, I won’t now.” You kiss your dad’s cheek softly, hearing the hitch in his breath as the first swells of music float through the open hangar doors.

It’s a song you’d mentioned on the off chance to Jake and your heart swells hearing the tones as Mara slips through the open doors on Mickey’s arm. Then Brianna and Javy. You can hear Jake’s gasp of surprise at the sight of his sister from where you are. Then your mom and Maria walk through the doors arm-in-arm. Standing in front of those open doors on your dad’s arm, a sudden fear halts your steps. Can you be a good wife to the beautiful man on the other side of those doors? Can you take care of him through everything else that you’ll face in your lives? You pray you can, because you’re not sure you could live another day without him by your side.

Your steps are perhaps too fast as you walk through the doors, but the minute your eyes meet Jake’s all your fear and hesitation fly away. He’s looking at you with so much love that everything else fades to the background. With each step you take, he mouths the words, “I love you” to you, and you can’t help the giddy smile on your face as you look at him.

His smile is brilliant as he takes your hands in his after lifting your veil. You’re consumed with the urge to kiss Jake, and you can’t help how you peck his lips, chastely just once.

“Alright, alright, kids. Settle down.” It’s Mav whose words separate the two of you, even as Mara, Mickey and Javy heckle you.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of this young couple before me. I never thought I’d see Lieutenant Commander Seresin get married. In my time as his superior officer, I’m sorry to say that for much of it, I saw his reputation rather than the man he is. Until he met the beautiful woman he’s marrying, the woman he calls Bitsie. Their relationship has been far from easy. For Jake, it was love at first sight. For Bitsie, it took heartbreak to see his love. But whatever their journeys may have been to get here to this very moment, I’m honored to marry these two today. Our couple thank you for taking this time to witness their union, as do I.” He looks so proud to see Jake standing there in front of you.

“I believe our couple have prepared some vows. Lieutenant Commander Seresin, if you would please?”

Your gasp of surprise is gentle and soft. You never discussed writing vows for one another.

“My Bitsie-girl. I know, you’re surprised that I prepared something, but in truth, I couldn’t see myself marrying you without telling you how much I love you. What Mav said earlier is right. I never saw myself marrying. It takes a special woman to withstand the stress and distance that the Navy can create in a relationship. I never thought I’d find that woman. At least, that is, until the day I saw you walk through the hangar doors in Miramar. You were breathtaking to me even then. It didn’t matter that you saw somebody else before me. I’m good, I’m very good and I had you in my target sights the minute I learned your name.”

Your giggle is watery at his words.

“It took another six months for you to see me, and Bitsie-darling, I would have given anything to change that day. I never wanted you to get hurt. I thought he was the right man for you, I truly thought he loved you as much as you loved him. So when I found you crying in the middle of the worst storm I’ve ever spent at sea, I took it upon myself to see your beautiful smile again. I don’t know when I changed in your eyes, but that day? That was the day when you changed in my eyes. I saw your strength, even when you cried in my arms. I saw the core of you. I saw how even when you were wounded you kept moving on. It never once affected your work, sweetheart. Your heartbreak never once kept you from excelling.”

“I’ve fallen in love with you more and more every minute of every day since then. Every day that I wake up to you in my arms, I’ll consider myself the luckiest man in the world. You mean so much to me, Bitsie-baby. I vow I’ll spend the rest of my life keeping you happy. I vow you’ll never want for anything. I know I’m only a man, I know I’m not perfect. But I vow I’ll do my best to make sure you’ll be loved everyday and every night. I love you, baby. It was the best day of my life when I asked you to marry me and you said yes.”

You’re sniffling when he stops speaking, your tears welling over as he pulls a packet of tissues out of his pocket and hands you one. There aren’t very many dry eyes in the audience when you look out at your friends and family assembled before you. You pat your tears away before taking Jake’s hands in yours.

“Jake,” Your voice breaks just saying his name. “I can’t believe there was ever a time when I didn’t love you. I can clearly see the line in the sand of life, clearly marked before Jake and with Jake. It shames me to think of those months before we met, those months where I didn’t like you, where I treated you terribly, and thought the worst of you. Then he cheated on me, and fell from the pedestal I’d put him on, and I saw the truth. That rainy night was the first time I’d ever seen you as a friend, Jake, and I wish I’d accepted your overtures of friendship before then. You felt like home when I was far away from everything I’d ever known and when my heart was bruised, battered, and broken.”

It’s Jake’s turn to sniffle as you gather your errant thoughts and put them into words.

“Those first three months on the carrier were the happiest I’ve been in a long time. And that’s all because of you, Jake. You helped me find friends in people I’d only thought could be colleagues. You’re a better friend than anyone ever gave you credit for being, Jake. I’m still not sure when I fell in love with you, but I did love you. I loved you that day when I nearly lost you before I ever told you how I felt. I thought I loved my ex, truly I did. But the love I felt for you that day, Jake? It exceeded every milestone I thought love could ever possibly reach.”

At this moment, all you care about is Jake. You have tunnel vision, focusing on his face and only his face.

“So this is what I promise you. I vow to love you, through every earthquake and flash flood life throws at our feet. I vow that I will never again disregard your presence or its importance in my life. I vow that even when we’re gray and old you’ll still be my best friend. I vow that you’ll always be my partner in crime and my reason when all else is lost. I love you, Jake.”

Even Mav sounds choked up when you both turn to him. He takes the ring box from Javy and finally speaks the words it feels like you’ve been waiting your whole life for.

“This ring is an unbroken circle, with ends that have been joined together, and it represents your union. It is a symbol of infinity, and of your infinite love. When you look at these rings on your hands, be reminded of this moment, your commitment, and the love you now feel for each other.”

Jake’s green eyes are just as teary as yours are.

“Jake, place the ring on Bitsie's finger and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge: to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”

Tears drip down your cheek as Jake utters the words before winking at you.

“And now… Bitsie, place the ring on Jake's finger and repeat after me: Jake, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge: to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”

Mav’s voice wobbles at those last words, and you don’t sound any better as you repeat them.

“Before these witnesses, you have pledged to be joined in marriage. You have now sealed this pledge with your wedding rings. By the authority vested in me by the great State of California, I now pronounce you married! You may kiss your bride!”

Jake’s eyes glint mischievously as he tugs you in and kisses you, slow and sweet. He tastes like cinnamon and you kiss for several long moments before the cheering of everyone you love separates you.

Waiting for you as you turn to face your family and friends is a sword arch. Flower petals cascade over your head with each step as you walk towards the entrance of the hangar. You’re smiling from ear-to-ear as you walk down the steps with Jake’s hand securely in yours. You know exactly what you’re getting into when two swords bar the way.

“We challenge you, Lieutenant Commander Seresin. One kiss to pass.” It’s Mickey saying those words, and it’s a request you’re only too eager to comply with.

When you and your husband, your husband, walk through the doors, you see a fairy tale scene. There are string lights festooned all over the place, shining merrily as Mav announces you and Jake as Lieutenant Commander and Mrs. Seresin. You spend several long moments hugging your friends and family before a familiar song has you turning in your tracks. It’s Jake, still wearing his Navy whites holding his hand out for you. You take his hand easily, gasping and laughing when he spins you out onto the dance floor.

Started out on a one-way train

Always knew where I was gonna go next

Didn't know until I saw your face

I was missin' out on every moment

You’re tearing up again, even as Jake spins you around on the dance floor.

So if it's real

Then, darlin', let me know

I wouldn't mind

If you steal the show

You had no idea that Jake could dance like this. He takes your breath away, even as the lights make his eyes glint mischievously and his hair shines golden. Your golden boy, your husband. You get lost, staring into his gorgeous green eyes, coming back to yourself only when your chest is heaving and applause peppers the night air. That’s how the remainder of your night goes, dancing with your friends, dancing with your family, dancing with Jake again, and again, and again. The sun is rising on the horizon when the party finally breaks up. Jake and you settle into the backseat of Javy’s convertible exhausted but ecstatic.

“Was today everything you hoped for and more, my Bitsie-girl?” Jake’s voice is slurring in exhaustion, his Texan twang blurring each rough syllable.

“Our wedding was everything I wanted and more, Jake. Honestly, I was ready to marry you in City Hall. But having our friends and family there made it even better. I know how important it was for you to have your mom and Brianna there for your wedding. I would’ve done anything to make sure your family was there.”

The wonder in his eyes still makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Why, Bitsie, baby?”

“Because I love you. And this?” You point to the ring on your left hand. “This is for forever. Your family is mine. And I love how much they love you. Your mom, and Brianna love you as much as I do. There was nobody else I’d rather have standing for you during our wedding.”

The rest of your words get muffled by the kiss Jake presses to your lips. This? You’re ready to kiss Jake and be kissed by him for the rest of your life. It’s a price you’ll readily pay. If only you could go back in time and tell yourself when you were hurting after Bradley cheated that something better is waiting for you, if only you open your eyes to it. It’s something you’re so glad you did. Jake’s the love of your life. You know that now.

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#star writes #you play stupid games you win stupid prizes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #past rooster x reader #past bradley bradshaw x reader #past bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster is a dick #he's not the greatest in this #top gun imagine #top gun angst #Spotify

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