#Grandparents Housewarming Gift

[mysticalnightenthusiast]

S.N.A.F.U CH78 ‘Presents’

A/N1:  Sorry for the huge gap since the last update peoples, life got busy with uni and exams and I lost the motivation to write recreationally.  I hope you enjoy this installment of Daniel and Eadaoin’s story!

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After lunch everyone help wash up and Eadaoin put the plum pudding in the oven, the two families then made their way into the lounge room led by an excited Isaac and Isabella.

“Okay okay okay who first?” Daniel asked no one in particular.

“MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” the two youngsters squealed loudly.

“Ehi, non così forte!” (Hey! Not so loud!) Michelle scolded “sit quietly first okay?”

“But Mamaaaaaa-” Isaac began “it’s Christmas!”

“And it will be for hours yet mister,” Michelle said amused by her son’s excitement.

“C’mon kiddo let’s sit by the tree, it’s too early to make Mum grumpy,” Daniel told his nephew with a grin “do you and Izzy want to help give the presents out?”

“Oh wow can we?”

“Sure thing but you have to be calm, where should we start?””

“Eadie!” Isabella exclaimed “she’s got lots and lots of presents!”

“I do?” Eadaoin asked in amusement as she dropped down beside the Christmas tree “from whom?”

“Everyone!” Isabella replied happily “Mamma, Papa, Nonna, Nonna, Bisnonna and Bisnonno...”

“The entire Ricciardo family?” Daniel asked Grace with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup, both sets of your grandparents, your father and I, Michelle.  Charlie, Guilia....”

“Giulia’s Mum’s sister and Charlie is Dad’s brother,” Daniel explained to Eadaoin “no wonder you needed a forklift for all your luggage Mum your stuff alone probably came on its own plane.”

“Cheeky!”

“Everyone back home wanted to give you and Danny joint presents,” Joe added as Isaac and Isabella dragged a large circular and apparently heavy present toward Eadaoin “That round one is from Charlie and his wife Gia and its homegrown you could say.”

“You open it,” Daniel urged Eadaoin with a smile “I’ll open the next one.”

Eadaoin gently took the enormous disc shaped present and began unwrapping it; soon she was surrounded by an enormous pile of festive wrapping paper and even more bubble wrap.  Daniel pulled it away and revealed an enormous disc of eucalyptus wood with ‘L'amore inizia a casa: Daniel e Eadaoin’ (Love begins at home-Daniel and Eadaoin) burnt into it in elaborate cursive script. On the back was a thick plaited length of wire that would allow the sign to be hung up.

“Oh wow it’s so....beautiful!” Eadaoin exclaimed “Love start-begins at home?  Did I get that right?”

“You did,” Joe replied “the wood comes from an enormous Blue Gum that got hit by lightning at the farm back in September.  Charlie helped me cut it up and Gia who is an art teacher put the inscription and wire on the back.  Also giving wood as a housewarming present is somewhat if an Italian tradition and Charlie in particular wanted you and Danny to have a bit of Australia with you wherever you decided to put down some roots.”

“That’s really quite sweet!” Eadaoin replied thickly “I’ll be sure to send them a thankyou note.”

“Next one!” Isaac announced excitedly pushing a rectangular box wrapped in paper covered in Kangaroos wearing Santa hats toward Daniel “this one’s from Tia Guilia and Uncle Paul!”

Daniel carefully unwrapped the package to reveal a box that contained an altar candle on it with “Daniel and Eadaoin Home Sweet Home” printed on it and a tiny little model of a house broom.  The broom prompted the curly haired driver to burst into amused laughter.

“A broom?” Eadaoin questioned in amused confusion.

“Yeah it’s another traditional Italian housewarming gift,” Daniel explained “its supposed to be for sweeping any evil or negativity that tries to enter a new home and the candle is supposed to remind new home owners to always keep light in their lives.  You know that red candle I have on the kitchen sideboard in the Monaco place and the blue one on the lounge coffee table at the Chelsea place??”

“Yeah.”

“Mum and Dad gave me those when I first bought those places. I’ve done the same for friends that have bought new places.  When Max bought his first ever place in Monaco I got him one in the colours of the Dutch flag.” Daniel explained “Guilia has a small side business making candles and wax melts, those sorts of things and she would have made this one.”

“Next one next one next one!” Isabella exclaimed excitedly.

“Who’s this one from sweetheart?” Eadaoin asked as Isabella gave her a heavy rectangular box.

“Bisnonna!”

“Dad’s Mum,” Daniel explained “knowing Nonna this will be the most Italian gift ever.”

Eadaoin opened the box to reveal a little care package of sorts.  A bottle of home made red wine, a bottle of wax sealed rosemary olive oil, a small package of dried pasta and some rock salt in a little hessian bag tied with a ribbon in the colours of the Italian flag.

“Two glasses of that stuff and you’ll be on the floor.” Michelle said at once “Nonno’s Lambrusco would drop an elephant.”

“Nah you’re just a lightweight,” Daniel teased.

“Oh bite me.”

“Nonno used to make his own wine before his hands got too arthritic,” Daniel told Eadaoin “and ‘chell’s right its strong stuff.  This bottle would be at least ten years old. Don’t drink it quickly of you’ll start questioning your life choices.”

“Giving wine, salt and olive oil are also traditional housewarming gifts in Italian culture,” Joe explained “the pasta is from my mother, she still makes it fresh but had to dry this lot for it to be able to get through customs. And the oil is from the batch she made last year.”

“I’ll definitely thank her both directly,” Eadaoin promised.

“Bisnonna’s pasta is yummy Edie, Nonno always burps after eating some,” Isabella piped up “it’s really loud.”

“There looks to be enough pasta here for two people, maybe after all the Christmas leftovers are gone we can eat it,” Eadaoin suggested.

“Sounds good,” Daniel replied “what’s next?”

The next present was from Graces parents and also contained a bottle of olive oil and salt and a handwritten recipe for bread.

“Its another Italian tradition to give bread as a housewarming present but Mum knew that a loaf wouldn’t be allowed through customs so she gifted the recipe she uses to make it herself,” Grace explained to Eadaoin who was reading the recipe that was totally written in Italian.

Eadaoin’s eyes prickled with unshed tears as she took in the thoughtful gift.

“Oh wow that’s really thoughtful!” she said thickly “I’m going to have to study a bit harder or I’ll misinterpret the recipe and blow up the kitchen.”

“I’ll help,” Daniel promised “I used to help Nonna make bread all the time when I was a kid.”

“Who next kiddo?” Eadaoin asked Isaac who was bouncing excitedly on the spot and looking between Grace and Daniel.

“Go on Tesoro” (sweetheart) Grace said with a grin as Isaac eagerly grabbed a large medium sized package from under the tree.

“This next one is for you honey but your father and I talked to Donnacha and Roisin about putting it together,” Grace informed her son “they’ve done something similar for Eadaoin.”

“We’ll explain when Eadie receives hers,” Donnacha added “everything will make sense then”

Daniel took the package from Isaac and began unwrapping it. Soon he held a large wooden covered photo album on his lap with “Daniel Joseph” embossed in elaborate gold leaf script.

“This looks like our family bible,” he commented with a chuckle as he opened the cover.

“Ah you don’t get one of those til you get married.” Grace said with a grin.

“Muuuuuu-”

“I know I know, go on open it” Grace urged “the whole family contributed to this one.”

Daniel opened the front of the album and on the first page was a photo of Grace holding a freshly born Daniel in a hospital bed and a replica of his birth certificate.

“Oh my god my face looks like a dropped pie!” he exclaimed “I’ve not seen this one before.”

“It’s a copy of the first one in your baby album,” Grace said.

Daniel flicked through each page of the album that showed photos of Daniel in each year of his life from birth, all throughout his schooling and karting years right up to his most recent birthday posing with the cake McLaren had made for the occasion.

“You had a pierced ear?” Eadaoin asked in amusement as the curly haired driver showed her a photo of him at his 17th birthday “that is so daggy!”

“It wasn’t the most fashionable thing I’ve ever done,” Daniel admitted as everyone laughed “I got a nice long lecture from Nonna about what was appropriate for a ‘good Italian boy’ the first time she saw it.  ‘chelle thought it was hilarious.”

“Mum and Nonna had a fit when they saw it,” Michelle with a giggle “he got chewed out for having it done than I got chewed out for encouraging it and going with him to get it done.  Dad thought it was hilarious.”

Joe snorted.

“Well it was pretty funny,” he admitted “it’s probably the most rebellious thing Dan ever did aside from being a constant smart mouth to one of the nuns in high school.”

“Oh Sister Patricia?” Daniel piped up “sour old bitch.” He added under his breath.

“Everyone was a smart mouth to Sister Patricia,” Michelle said “grumpy old goat she was.”

“Alright let’s move on who’s next?” Daniel asked.

“Eadie!” Isabella exclaimed pulling an identical present to the one Daniel received from under the tree.

“This is from your Dad and I but everyone in the family and Danny contributed,” Roisin told her daughter.

Eadaoin gently unwrapped the present to reveal an identical photo album with ‘Eadaoin Niamh’ engraved on the front, like Daniel’s it contained dozens of photos from her birth, each birthday, school and university graduations copies of her birth certificate and University parchments and even a photo of her and Daniel at her most recent birthday in Austin that Eadaoin knew Michael had taken on Daniel’s mobile phone.

“Oh I love that photo!” Eadaoin exclaimed thickly a lump forming in her throat “Michael did such a great job considering he was wasted and couldn’t get the focus settings right.”

“I chipped in that one,” Daniel confessed with a smile.

“We have another copy upstairs if you want to frame it and put it on the mantel piece,” Donnacha informed his emotional daughter “your Mam and I have a copy on our mantelpiece back home.”

Eadaoin got up from her place on the floor and made her way over to her parents, embracing them both hard.

“Thank you,” she murmured a tear or two leaking out of her eyes

“We know photo albums and actual photos are old school but there’s something nice about sitting down and looking at a physical album,” Grace said as Eadaoin pulled a tissue from her bra and wiped her eyes “your parents and Joe and I thought you and Daniel would like a physical reminder of your lives right up until you met and thought from here on out you could start your own album that documents your life together.”

Eadaoin made her way over to Grace and hugged the older woman.

“Thank you,” she murmured moving on to hug Joe next “it’s the best present ever!” 

“Ah you haven’t seen what Danny’s gotten you yet,” Donnacha joked “he looks more excited than Isaac and Isabella do.”

“Uncle Daniel’s got ants in his pants!” Isaac declared loudly as the curly haired driver eagerly reached for a large box marked for Eadaoin.

“Uncle Daniel’s always got ants in his pants,” Eadaoin joked ruffling Isaac’s hair “it’s not just at Christmas he doesn’t sit still.”

“Yeah yeah my turn,” Daniel grumbled the hint of a smile playing upon his lips “this is for you.”

“Hold on sis is this something you should be opening in front of the in-laws?” Cahir piped up with a snort.

“Póg mo thóin,” (kiss my arse) Eadaoin muttered her face turning a magnificent shade of scarlet “idiot.”

Eadaoin carefully unwrapped the gift Daniel gave her to reveal a plain cardboard box she opened that to reveal a plain black bag that was unmistakably a helmet case.

“You got me a helmet?” she exclaimed happily.

“Have a look and see.”

Eadaoin unzipped the case and pulled out a spectacularly decorated racing helmet, it was various shades of metallic and glitter colours and featured Irish Shamrocks in the shape of a map of Australia, beach scenes and in the most delicate script across the bottom under the visor was Níos Láidre le Chéile (Stronger Together).  Her jaw fell open and she gasped in amazement.

“Oh wow Eadie that’s super pretty!” Isabella exclaimed.

“I asked Cahir and your parents about what they thought you’d like on your own helmet and together with what I know you like came up with this,” Daniel explained as Eadaoin inspected the helmet closely “so now you don’t have to use those manky hire ones when you go karting.”

Eadaoin burst into a million dollar smile and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips.

“So when are we going Karting?” she asked brightly.

“When the weather warms up, or we can go to Dubai before pre-season testing starts and go there” Daniel suggested with a wink.

“Sounds good.”

Daniel also gifted Eadaoin a diamond bracelet that matched the ring he gave her that morning then the redhead joined him in sitting in the giant bean bag they had bought in Los Angeles to watch everyone else receive their gifts.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Eadaoin murmured turning her head and sneaking a kiss when everyone’s attention was on Isaac who was babbling excitedly about a Lego kit Grace and Joe had gifted him “I want to do this every year.”

Daniel grinned.

“Maybe next year we’ll do it at the farm?” he suggested as Isabella squealed excitedly about the Cabbage Patch doll he and Eadaoin had given her “I want to show you everything at home, introduce you to everyone.”

“Parade me about?” Eadaoin asked in a low voice.

Daniel chuckled.

“Of course,” he murmured as Michelle opened up her present from them, a Swarovski crystal frog and a pair of diamond studs “any bloke with you on their arm would be stupid not to, d'you have any idea what my street cred is going to be like when I go home with you?”

Eadaoin rolled her eyes.

“You’re a crazy man,” she said tiredly sinking into his warm embrace “god I am so tired”

“We can go to bed after dessert,” Daniel suggested as Cahir unwrapped a leather bound diary with his name embossed on the front he and Eadaoin had given him “not much longer.”

After gift giving the combined families gathered back at the dining table for dessert.  Much jovial conversation was had til after the meal and Grace noticed Eadaoin’s exhaustion.

“Edie honey are you alright?” the elder Ricciardo asked in concern as Eadaoin began loading the dishwasher with the latest dishes “you look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” the redhead admitted “jetlag and Christmas festivities don’t really mix.”

Grace pried the bowl she was holding from her hand and chivvied her toward Daniel who had just entered the kitchen carrying a tray of used cutlery.

“Daniel take Eadaoin upstairs to bed,” she said “she’s exhausted.”

“B-but we have the after dessert movie tradition!” Eadaoin protested weakly “and there are so many more dishes to do-”

“Sweetheart you’re so tired you’re not going to make it through the opening credits,” Grace pointed out “you’ve already done so much for us and both you and Daniel are dead on your feet.  Both of you go to bed.  We can finish up for you.”

“Yeah sis go to bed,” Cahir added as he came into the kitchen with some stacked glasses “we’ve got everything here.”

“You all really don’t mind?” Eadaoin asked tiredly.

“If we did I wouldn’t have suggested it,” Grace relied embracing her “go rest up and we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks Mum you’re a star,” Daniel said gratefully.

“That’s alright honey, you’ve done so much to look after us now its our turn to look after you go on scoot.”

Daniel and Eadaoin bade everyone goodnight then made their way up to their bedroom where they started getting ready for bed.”

“I love your Mum she’s awesome,” Eadaoin said kicking off her shoes.

“Yeah she’s pretty good,” Daniel replied leaving his clothes in a messy pile on the floor and getting into bed “oh god what a busy few weeks, I’m dead!”

Eadaoin turned off the light and joined the curly haired driver under the covers.

“This has been the best Christmas ever,” she murmured snuggling into his muscular bulk “I don’t think it could have been any more perfect.”

“I agree,” Daniel replied sleepily, pressing a kiss to her forehead “fuck I forgot to give you your present!”

“That can wait til the morning,” Eadaoin told him with a grin “I want to be wide awake when I open whatever you’ve given me.”

Daniel nuzzled into the side of her neck.

“Good because you’ll need to be,” he said “but sleep first.”

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A/N2:  If you liked this please like and reblog!

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The Allure of White Roses: Crafting Meaningful White Rose Bouquet Arrangements

A lush bouquet of white roses has an ethereal elegance perfect for momentous occasions. Their pristine petals evoke purity, new beginnings and solemn remembrance. For centuries, white roses have been incorporated into wedding bouquets and adorned sanctuaries. Today, their symbolism-rich beauty makes white roses ideal for celebrating life’s diverse milestones. This guide covers how to craft eloquent white rose bouquets carrying meaningful messages.

Symbolic and Historical Significance

To harness their full expressive power, understanding white roses' cultural significance and symbolism is key.

Ancient Association with Deities

In Greek and Roman myths, white roses were tied to goddess figures like Isis, Aphrodite and Diana who blessed and protected stages like marriage and childbirth. This imbued white roses with a sense of sanctity.

Medieval Courtly Love

In medieval courting rituals, knights and ladies exchanged white roses as tokens of chaste love and loyalty. They represented spiritual and eternal love rather than sensual passion.

Victorian Flower Language

During the Victorian era, every flower had assigned meanings used to convey coded messages. White roses symbolized innocence, secrecy, girlhood, silence and respect.

Modern Meanings

Today, white roses continue channeling themes of purity, reverence, new chapters, remembrance and forever love. Their color reflects these uplifted concepts.

Wedding Traditions

White roses remain closely tied to weddings as decorations and in bridal bouquets. This perpetuates their meaning of sweet beginnings, promise and union.

Layering in this historical significance amplifies the symbolic resonance of white roses for special gift-giving moments.

White Rose Color Meanings

While classic bright white roses prevail, new varieties add nuanced meaning:

Bright White – Innocence and Purity

Crisp, snowy white roses exude innocence. They convey heartfelt respect and set spiritual ambiance. Bright whites work for ceremonies of all kinds.

Cream – Warmth and Affection

Creamy roses add soft warmth to white’s cool elegance. Their muted tone feels intimate and tender. Give them to express devoted affection.

Pearl – Eternal Love and Remembrance

Pale pearly roses combine white and pink for an ethereal affect. They work beautifully for permanent sentiments like immortal love and cherishing memories.

Silver – Enchantment and Prosperity

Silvery white roses shimmer as if dusted with moonbeams. They carry sentiments of enchantment, mystical connections and prosperity.

Green-Tipped – Growth and Vitality

Alabaster white roses edged with green represent renewal, fresh starts and encouragements to flourish. They signal new life and chapter beginnings.

Add these elegant hues to amplify specific emotional tones.

Designing White Rose Bouquets by Occasion

When planning white rose bouquets, tailor the design and add accents that reflect the occasion:

Weddings

For bridal bouquets and centerpieces, surround white roses with peonies, lace details and pearls. Display pew markers tied with white satin bows.

Funerals and Memorials

At funerals and memorials, layer white roses with pale lilies and ferns in standing sprays, heart-shaped wreaths and casket arrangements.

Graduations

Celebrate with bouquets of white roses edged in green mixed with fresh eucalyptus and silver diploma charms.

Christenings and Baptisms

Capture new beginnings with white roses accented with delicate baby’s breath and trailing ivy vines. Give to parents, godparents and grandparents.

Spiritual Ceremonies

Adorn mandirs, churches, mosques and temples with garlands of white roses for spiritual occasions like navratri, Easter, Eid or bar/bat mitzvahs.

New Homes

Housewarmings are perfect for white roses in modern glass vases to impart blessings and signify fresh starts.

Matching bouquets to purpose strengthens symbolic undertones.

Styling Tips for Gorgeous White Rose Bouquet Arrangements

Once you’ve aligned on occasion, refine bouquet styling for maximum visual splendor:

Mix in Greenery

Pair bright white roses with fresh green accents like ferns, ivy, eucalyptus, olive branches or leucadendron. This mimics their natural growth.

Add Textural Blooms

Blend in flowers like lilies, tulips, daisies, hyacinth, peonies or ranunculus for texture contrast to soft rose petals.

Use Statement Vases or Containers

Display dramatic white bouquets in cut glass, silver, geometric ceramic or hammered metal vases.

Highlight with Ornate Details

Weave in pearls, crystals, gold/silver threads or antique brooches amongst the roses for ornate embellishments.

Care and Handle with Love

Carefully nourish white rose arrangements - recut stems, hydrate, avoid direct sunlight, display away from ripening fruit.

Mindful attention to each aesthetic detail honors the bouquet’s emotional significance.

Sourcing Beautiful White Roses bouquet and Supplies

White roses for gifting and designing professional bouquets are readily available through:

Local Florists

Florists expertly craft bespoke white rose bouquets for any occasion. Visit shops to hand-select the best blooms.

Online Sellers

Websites like 1-800 Flowers, FTD and local e-florists ship freshly arranged white rose bouquets overnight. Order conveniently online.

Wholesale Markets

In major cities, flower markets have the best DIY selection for bulk ordering roses, vases and floral supplies. Create arrangements affordably.

Farmer’s Markets

Local vendors at outdoor markets often sell field-grown roses in season. Chat with them for care tips and inspiration.

Backyard Growing

Plant heirloom rose bushes ideal for your climate to grow organic white roses readily harvestable for impromptu bouquets.

With numerous sources, white roses are accessible for crafting sentimental arrangements anytime.

Conclusion

Across cultures, pristine white roses symbolize sanctity, promise and new horizons. Their ethereal beauty stirs imagination and inspires us to celebrate life’s sacred moments. For bridals, memorials, spiritual occasions and more, hand-select white roses to craft one-of-a-kind bouquet arrangements. Mindfully arranged white roses become enduring vessels carrying our hopes, dreams and blessings at each turning point in life’s journey.

[zenasflower]

Gifts For Every Occasion

There are many occasions throughout the year where it is necessary to give gifts. However, choosing the perfect gift can be difficult. In this blog post, we will explore nine different gift ideas that are suitable for all occasions.

The key to finding the best gift is paying attention to your loved ones. Listen to what they say and watch what they do.

Birthdays

Whether you’re looking for a thoughtful gift to give to friends, family or co-workers, birthday Gifts for occasion are always appreciated. For the foodie in your life, consider a delicious fruit arrangement or chocolate covered treats that will make them feel like royalty on their special day.

A subscription box is another thoughtful birthday gift idea. With a variety of subscription boxes like FabFitFun, your recipient can try new products and discover their favorites.

Anniversaries

An anniversary is a wonderful opportunity to celebrate your commitment. Gifts are not just for marriages and romantic relationships; they can be used to show how much you care for any employee celebrating an anniversary at your organization.

The traditional and modern anniversary gift lists, which dictate a theme by year, are a great guide to help you pick the perfect present. For example, the 35th anniversary is celebrated with gold, which symbolizes wealth and wisdom.

A more modern gift might be a copper item like this copper mug set and cocktail infusion jar.

Weddings

Traditionally, weddings involved an exchange of gifts between the bride’s and groom’s families. Often, the gift list would include items like kitchen tools and dining sets for the newlyweds to start their married lives together.

For an extra-special wedding present, consider something personalized for the couple. This handmade decanter features a mountain that rises from the inside, making it perfect for a pair who loves outdoor adventures.

Another great option is this customizable doormat that shows off their new last name in style. It’s sure to become a favorite home accessory for years to come.

Housewarmings

A new home requires a few essentials to get it up and running. For those celebrating a friend’s move, a thoughtful gift will make them feel welcome in their new space.

A monogrammed item—like a picture frame, hand towels or a mug—is a cute and functional choice. Other personalized gifts that go the extra mile include a stateshaped wooden cheese board or a cocktail kit that includes a bottle of spirits, fresh limes and ice to create two cocktails on demand.

Strategist editors suggest steering clear of including a link to your painstakingly curated registry on housewarming invitations, says Los Angeles-based etiquette consultant Elaine Swann. It’s a little forward and puts the onus on guests to buy a present, she adds.

Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is a special time to show appreciation for mom and mother figures. It is celebrated around the world with different traditions and customs. In the United States, it is a national holiday observed on the second Sunday in May.

It was initiated by Anna Jarvis in 1908 to honor her own mother. While she later regretted the commercialization of the celebration, millions of people now honor their mothers and celebrate the occasion with gifts, cards, and flowers.

Treating your mom to a relaxing spa treatment is another way of showing her how much you care. You can also make a thoughtful gift basket for her.

Father’s Day

Father’s Day is celebrated on the third Sunday in June and is a holiday for male parent figures. It complements celebrations of other family members, such as Mother’s Day, Siblings Day and Grandparents Day.

Children often handcraft Gifts for occasion Liverpool and write messages in cards for their fathers. As with Mother’s Day, families often have dinner together and it is one of the busiest days for restaurants.

Give your dad an experience he will remember forever. Take him on a weekend road trip or slip him tickets to his favorite event.

Sympathy

Sympathy is a feeling of understanding and caring for someone else’s misfortune. It can also be a feeling of pity for someone. Sympathy is not the same as empathy, however.

Empathy involves vicariously experiencing another person’s emotions and thoughts. It requires creativity to do so and it can be difficult for some people.

For example, if your co-worker confides in you that they are struggling to keep up with their work, you can show them sympathy by saying “I’m sorry to hear that.” You can also demonstrate compassion by offering to help them run errands or drive them to their appointments.

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Don’t Buy Steel Dinner Set Before Reading This

Don’t Buy Steel Dinner Set Before Reading This

You will have inherited a steel dinner set from your grandparents if you’re lucky. A steel dinner set isn’t just functional; it holds memories and makes meals homely. But even if you inherited a set, you might want to buy a set yourself to add to the family traditions. 

It is said, you eat first with your eyes and then with your stomach. Food has to look appetizing, and for that, it needs to be served on suitable tableware. Steel plates and bowls have been the preferred tableware choice for decades. 

Benefits of Eating in A Steel Dinner Set

When you think of steel, durability is the first thing that comes to mind. Steel doesn’t break easily, doesn’t rust, and, when looked after well, will retain its luster for years. A steel dinner set price is comparable to crockery in other materials, but this will last longer. It’s this factor that makes them family heirlooms. A full steel dinner set is often passed down from one generation to another.

Easy to clean, steel looks new even after years. There’s no fear of scratches collecting grime or prints fading away. The natural luster of this metal is easy to maintain.

Types of Steel Dinner Set

You can find a steel dinner set online quite easily today. A glance will show you quite a variation in styles and, correspondingly, wide steel dinner set price range. Both the quality of steel and the design influence the price, and there are three main categories of dinner set steel. 

Long-lasting Steel Dinner Set

While a steel thali is very difficult to break, it can dent quite easily if made from thin steel (say 24guage or 26guage). A heavy-duty steel dinner set is made from thicker steel (either 22guage/21guagae) and is more durable. When you hold the plates, you’ll feel the difference and when you use it you will observe it is there for generations. We have seen dinner sets given during marriage of daughters being used even by the grand children PROUDLY.

Hammered Finish Steel Dinner Set

Hammering or mathar is a way to add texture to steel, and hammering gives the steel a dimpled effect. In the case of a dinner set, you’ll typically see the design on the walls of the plates, bowls, and glasses. A full dinner set steel with a hammered finish looks traditional yet contemporary – it’s the perfect way to bridge the gap. It’s an owner’s pride and neighbours envy.

Laser Design Steel Dinner Set

Laser engraving is yet another way to enhance the look of steel tableware. If you’re looking for a modern steel ka dinner set, this would be an ideal choice. Laser engraving design can range from geometric patterns to delicate florals, and there’s something to suit every palate. There are companies who can customise this as per your design choices – Isn’t that Interesting!!

Mirror Finish Steel Dinner Set

If you prefer something modern and sleek, look at mirror finish dinner sets. As the name suggests, a mirror finish is about polishing the metal to a degree where it starts reflecting things. Your face will look as clear as if looking at a mirror.  

Check out Coconut Steel Dinner Set Review on Business Insider

Which brand is best for dinner set? 

Buying a branded steel dinner set guarantees quality, and coconut is a trustworthy brand that has built a name for quality and design. 

Steel Dinner Set For Gifting

A full dinner set of steel is a traditionally favoured wedding gift, and it’s just what a couple needs to start their new married life. And, you can never have too many plates! 

When looking at a steel dinner set for gifting, a set with 6 table settings is ideal. This is something the couple can use every day as well as when they entertain guests. A steel dinner set is also a great gift as a housewarming gift or an anniversary gift.

There are many budget-friendly options for a steel dinner set price. Let’s look at a few options.

A 58-piece steel dinner set

This is a full dinner set steel that has everything needed to lay a beautiful table for a meal. It includes plates, bowls, glasses, and cutlery for 6 people as well as three beautiful serving bowls and a water jug. 

Buy 58-piece steel dinner set

A 30-piece steel dinner set

A steel dinner set is the ideal foundation for family meals. This set with 6 table settings is ideal for a family get together over a good meal. With a polished mirror surface, it’ll make everything you cook look appetizing.

Buy 30-piece steel dinner set

Return Gift for Kiddie Birthdays 

If you’re thinking of sustainable gifts for kids birthdays, a steel plate set could be the perfect solution. Rather than a complete dinner set, you could get them a plate set for one. It’s a complete set of a plate, bowl, glass and a spoon. Not only is this a healthy way for kids to enjoy their meals, it also gives them a feeling of owning something special to be brought out at every meal. It might even be instrumental in helping them learn to help with clearing up the table after a meal. It comes with nice floral designs which attract kids or cartoon characters.

Buy Kids dinner plate set

Full Steel Dinner Set Ka Comparison 

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[very-authorized-author]

thanks for tagging me @ocaenvvaves!

How do you heat water?

i use electric kettle, and when i have no kettle :(( i use small pot, like that one time in Athens xd

Do you have a pen cup? If yes/what is the most non-pen item in it?

i have two, one is generic plastic pen cup you can get from the stationery store except its pink and has Barbie on it, the other one is a mug with signatures from every person from my class in primary school; most non pen item in them? coctail mixer with pineapple on top (one from the set i got as a housewarming gift from my besties)

Do you have a favorite utensil? Tell me about it.

my teaspoon, the only one of its kind in the house, it's deeper than other ones and holds like 1,5 normal teaspoon of stuff, also it's fancy probably silver plated, i have theory that it came from my grandparents home because my grandpa worked in company that did silver plating and he sometimes got stuff like that

What's the highest hotel/building floor you can take standing on a balcony?

sky's the limit!

I wanna know about your socks. Do you not wear socks? Do you wear cool socks? Are they utilitarian?

when i'm home i don't wear socks i just like to walk barefoot; i love funny and cute socks but i have really big feet so it's hard for me to find them but i have a few pairs but i also like utilitarian socks- i recently bought some black, bamboo ones, they're very soft

Tag five people to learn actual things about them:

@frost0wl @damnsupercorp @god-help-the-fangirl @bigtreesarecool and anybody who wants to do it

thank you for the tags @android-and-ale @flippyspoon and @celestialvoyeur i'm sorry it took me forty-five business days to respond!!

How do you heat water?

electric kettle!

Do you have a pen cup? If yes/what is the most non-pen item in it?

I do, and it is a cactus-shaped mug that is adorable but impossible to drink from. In it are pens and also a tiny replica of a Toledo sword that I use as a letter opener

Do you have a favorite utensil? Tell me about it.

rubber spatula with christmas decorations stamped onto it :)

What's the highest hotel/building floor you can take standing on a balcony?

i have no fear of heights, so whatevs

I wanna know about your socks. Do you not wear socks? Do you wear cool socks? Are they utilitarian?

i am virtually always wearing socks. i love them. i like to wear fun ones and fuzzy ones. today's socks have acorns and squirrels that say "nuts about you" LOL

Tag five people to learn actual things about them:

@orangexmachina @jennelikejennay @eternally-intermittent @phantomsteed @athymelyreply

[grannyandgrandpascreations]

Grandparents Rules Start Here Parents Rules End Here Garden/Yard Flag

Make your garden, your porch and/or your front yard stand out with our pretty, unique, and fun Garden Flag!

Celebrate the special bond between children and Grandparents with this funny, unique garden/yard flag. We also offer personalize Garden/Yard Flags. Please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com to customize your grandparent’s garden/yard flag.

Garden flags are an exciting and easy way to express yourself and add some color and cheer to your home, your porch and/or garden especially with the many different options of Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations Garden Flags! Decorative and eye-catching garden flag to theme your home outdoor yard. Our Garden Flags make great Housewarming Gifts!

A tidbit - The Hamm’s Bear, Sascha was named after the wife of the original founder of the company.

Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations can also personalize your Garden Flag with a monogram, your family name and much, much more; please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com to personalize your Garden Flag.

Our designed is on a durable 11.81 x 17.72 inches, white single/double layer, polyester durable garden flag.

Fabric Care Instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Flag post is NOT included.

#grannygrandpascustomcreations - #garden - #flags

Make your garden, your porch and/or your front yard stand out with our pretty, unique, and fun Garden Flag!   

Celebrate the special bond between children and Grandparents with this funny, unique garden/yard flag.   We also offer personalize Garden/Yard Flags.   Please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com to customize your grandparent’s garden/yard flag.  

Garden flags are an exciting and easy way to express yourself and add some color and cheer to your home, your porch and/or garden especially with the many different options of Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations Garden Flags! Decorative and eye-catching garden flag to theme your home outdoor yard. Our Garden Flags make great Housewarming Gifts!

A tidbit - The Hamm’s Bear, Sascha was named after the wife of the original founder of the company.

Granny & Grandpa’s Custom Creations can also personalize your Garden Flag with a monogram, your family name and much, much more; please reach out to us at grannyscustomcreations@gmail.com to personalize your Garden Flag.

Our designed is on a durable 11.81 x 17.72 inches, white single/double layer, polyester durable garden flag.

Fabric Care Instructions: Machine wash cold, no bleach, no softener. Do not dry clean. Do not iron. Air dry.

Due to different light settings the actual color might vary a bit from the pictures.

Flag post is NOT included.

#grannygrandpascustomcreations - #garden - #flags

[kpopfanfictrash]

Raise the Barre (Epilogue)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for the last Raise the Barre moodboard TT she nailed it

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: sexual content. Dry humping, fingering, hand job, oral (female), breast play, multiple orgasms, Jimin gets turned on by making someone else come, dirty talk. Jimin’s pants are tight.

Word Count: 13,409

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.  

“And… more pointe shoes,” you said, opening the box in your lap. “Wow. Thanks, mom and dad.”

Your dad laughed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You’re welcome, kiddo,” he said, nodding from the couch. “I know Russet gives you some already, but you can never have too many.”

“Out of curiosity.” You glanced at the tree. “Are there any boxes from you which aren’t related to dance?”

“Not related to dance…” Your mom pretended to think. “I don’t understand.”

“Mom!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding! Yes, there are other presents. You just happened to pick all the pointe shoe boxes first.”

Shaking your head, you placed the box aside. You smiled though, warmth in your chest at being home for the holidays. Classes at Russet had ended a week prior and it had been nice for a few days to simply relax. Already though, you found yourself itching to return to the city. It was strange to wake every morning and not head to ballet. It was even stranger to take classes at your old studio, trying to stay in shape before second semester began.

Playing with the string of your sweatpants, you couldn’t help glancing at your phone on the couch. It had been several days since you’d last seen Jimin in person. Oddly enough, the separation had been harder than you’d thought it would be.

Immediately after ending things with Finn, you and Jimin had tried to keep your distance. The pain of your separation had been too fresh to even consider dating someone else but, as time had gone on, you and Jimin had started becoming friends again.

It was hard not to be, with Jimin continuing as your dance partner and classmate. At the end of the semester, you’d had the opportunity to switch partners, but you and Jimin had chosen the status quo. It just made sense this way; you couldn’t think of anyone else you’d trust as much as him.

At first, things between you were strictly professional. You saw him only within the confines of the dance studio but eventually, his presence bled into your normal life. At first, the outings were small. Jimin went to a pregame you also attended. He saw you once at the coffee shop and, instead of running away, he stopped to chat. One time, he walked you back to your dorm.

When the month became December, you found your outlook improving. Most of November had been spent wallowing in your dorm, but the holiday season brought with it endless activities. The very first weekend of the month, a bunch of your Russet friends decided to go ice skating and you’d ended up tagging along.

The biggest problem had been you’d never ice skated before. Noelle had been patient, skating backwards in front of you and dragging you around the rink. Jimin had done the same thing for Hoseok, who was in a similar predicament to yours, and at some point, they swapped partners and left you skating with Jimin.

When he’d taken over for Noelle, your stomach had swooped. Hands touching, he’d led you gently around the edge and the world had seemed to still. It had been the first time you’d felt anything stir outside of your break-up. Whatever hurt and distance had sprung between you, it seemed something had survived between you and Jimin.

Nose red, Jimin had smiled as he skated backwards. “It’s easy,” he’d told you. “You just swivel, Y/N. In and out, in and out. Got it?”

“Um, no!” you’d yelped, nearly crashing to the ice when Jimin let go of your hands.

He’d laughed, catching you easily and skating like that for a while. Eventually, Jimin had helped you off the rink and gotten hot chocolate, which you insisted on buying. Payback, you said, for the impromptu skating lessons.

That day had been a turning point for you both. Throughout the month prior, you’d texted sporadically but after, you seemed to talk every day.

Jimin even offered to drive you home from Russet, given the fact that your hometowns were so close together. After much hemming and hawing, you’d eventually taken him up on the offer. The savings it gave your bleeding bank account were well-worth the potential discomfort.

This had led to both the best and worst twenty-four hours of your life.

Best, because Jimin was an excellent road trip companion. He let you choose the music, laughed at all your dumb jokes, and agreed to play the road trip games you suggested. You’d already made a firm rule not to compare Jimin to any past boyfriends but couldn’t help but note this as an improvement over anyone prior.

The sole reason the twenty-four hours were also painful was because you stopped at a hotel halfway through. It was either this or drive until 3:00 AM, so you chose the smarter option and rested for the night. You and Jimin bought separate bedrooms, but they’d ended up next to one another, so you’d been forced to spend a sleepless night imagining Jimin separated from you only by a thin sheet of plywood.

You had told yourself this was silly. At Russet, Jimin hadn’t been much further away, but something about the closeness in the hotel made you nervous. It was infinitely easier to forget about boundaries when you were separated by only a car console for hours at a time. Infinitely easier to forget the rules when you were outside of Russet, cocooned by his car and the snow.

You couldn’t help but think about the one kiss you’d shared.

That had only been a taste, barely a teaser, but the memory kept you awake for more nights than it probably should have. You couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to kiss Jimin again, under different circumstances.

Groaning, you’d covered your face with a pillow that night and tried your best to sleep. It hadn’t really worked, and you’d shown up at the car the next morning with dark shadows beneath your eyes.

Forcing yourself back to the present, you glanced away from your phone and focused on the tree – only to see its screen light up in your peripheral. Grabbing your phone, you realized Jimin had texted. Stifling a smile, you scrolled through the conversation until you found his last message.

Jimin: MERRY CHRISTMAS! [10:23 AM]

Jimin: 

Y/N: oh my god everything’s so... coordinated lol how long did that tree take to set up?  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: and merry Christmas 😊  [10:24 AM]

Jimin: not long at all. I just googled ‘christmas trees’ and that was the first one I found  [10:24 AM]

Y/N: ha ha hilarious  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: so, what are the Park family plans for the day?  [10:25 AM]

Jimin: the usual. Opening presents, going to my grandparents later for dinner. What about you?  [10:25 AM]

Y/N: same, minus the grandparents. We usually have a pretty low-key day  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: sounds nice  [10:26 AM]

Jimin: what’s your favorite present so far  [10:27 AM]

Y/N: 

Jimin: LOL  [10:30 AM]

Jimin: how many of them did you get? I’ve gotten two new dance bags and seven pairs of black leggings. It’s like our parents have forgotten we do anything else  [10:31 AM]

Y/N: no new dance belts? 😈  [10:32 AM]

Jimin: Y/N, I’m shocked  [10:35 AM]

Jimin: mind out of the gutter. Stop thinking about my junk  [10:35 AM]

Y/N: as your dance partner, I have a vested interest in your junk. What if it breaks free in the middle of practice?  [10:38 AM]

Jimin: the more delicate ladies would faint, I imagine  [10:41 AM]

Jimin: and probably Paulo  [10:41 AM]

Y/N: lmao  [10:43 AM]

Y/N: but seriously, I hope you get presents other than dance gear  [10:43 AM]

Jimin: back at you haha  [10:47 AM]

Y/N: I can’t help but notice you didn’t get me, your dance partner, a Christmas gift though  [10:50 AM]

Jimin: was the drive home not enough?  [10:50 AM]

Y/N: oh, shoot. You’re right! You did get me a Christmas gift  [10:51 AM]

Y/N: I’m the one who’s been remiss  [10:51 AM]

Jimin: don’t forget about my housewarming gift, too  [10:52 AM]

You smiled, sitting back on the sofa. Jimin was lucky enough to be moving off campus second semester. He, Hoseok and Alex Wong were moving into an apartment not far from Paulo’s. You and Noelle had decided to stay in Grace Hall, but you’d talked about moving someplace else next year.

Jimin was heading back early to move into his new place, so you’d need a different ride on your return trip to Russet. Still, you were looking forward to Jimin’s apartment hosting parties in the new year.

Y/N: don’t get greedy on me now, Park  [10:54 AM]

“Who’re you texting?”

Jerking your head up from the screen, you nearly dropped your phone. From the couch opposite, your mom gave you a knowing look.

“No one,” you said hastily, setting your phone aside.

“Oh, really?” She glanced with your dad. “No one wouldn’t happen to have dark hair, his own car and excellent table manners, would he?”

Immediately, you felt your face heat.

When Jimin drove you home before Christmas, your parents had insisted on feeding him before he continued to Harleigh Heights. This had led to the weirdest double date of your life – which was, in fact, not a date – including you, Jimin and your parents for dinner. Luckily, your parents had been great and Jimin hadn’t cared, but you’d been endlessly mortified for your first date with Jimin to have included your parents.

Not that you’d called it a date. When Jimin had left that night, you’d brushed it aside and he’d simply gone along with it. After Jimin had left, you’d gone to your room and wondered what the hell you were doing. It was clear you still liked Jimin and wanted to be more than just friends. Still, something continued to hold you back.

You weren’t sure when it was considered appropriate to move on. The line seemed fuzzy, so you hadn’t dared cross it and Jimin hadn’t asked. You got the feeling you needed to be the one to make the first move – which made sense. You’d been the one who asked for more time. You’d told Jimin you’d say when you were ready.

Any next steps would have to come from you.

It had been weird to go home and not see Finn. His house was only fifteen minutes away from yours – you’d driven past it on your way to the grocery store last week. Still, seeing his home hadn’t caused the pain you’d expected. It was strange not to see him, but more like you’d forgotten something you needed to do, as opposed to missing his actual presence.

If you were being honest, Finn had crossed your mind less and less lately. Possibly because you’d been falling out of love with him long before you’d broken up in November.

Still, it would be unfair to jump into something before you were ready. You’d already hurt Jimin once this past fall and were determined not to do so again. No matter how good things had been lately between you, you didn’t want to make the mistake of dating Jimin too soon.

Despite this, things had become flirtier between you as of late. Exhibit A: casual text conversations about Park Jimin’s junk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said lightly.

Your dad laughed as he stood from the couch. “Alright, then,” he said, grabbing another gift. “How about you open this one next?”

Accepting the thin package he handed over, you frowned. The box wasn’t large and, shaking it slowly, you heard no sliding inside.

“I swear,” you said as you began to undo the bow. “If you wrapped your passport photo again, dad...”

Laughing, he settled back on the couch by your mom. “It’s not that, I promise.”

Grumbling, you opened the box and immediately froze. Staring at the paper inside, you slowly looked up. “Is this… is this what I think it is?”

“It’s a plane flight,” your mom said with a smile. “I know we’re supposed to drive you back on the third, but we thought you might want to celebrate New Year’s with your friends.”

“But…” Speechless, you returned to the box. “We always hang out together on New Year’s Eve.”

“I know,” said your dad. “But maybe it’s time to start some new traditions, kiddo.”

With that, he stood and took his mug to the kitchen. Sensing he wasn’t needed for this conversation any longer, he began washing dishes and to prepare breakfast. Once he was gone, your mom moved to your couch and settled beside you.

“I… this is too much,” you said, immediately backpedaling.

“It’s not.”

“Well…” Hesitant, you considered the possibilities. “I guess Ari will be in the city for New Year’s Eve. Maybe Noelle, too. She mentioned she might go back early.”

Gently, your mom smiled. “That’s great if you want to hang out with them, but… didn’t Jimin mention going back before New Year’s?”

Startled, you glanced up. You were surprised she’d remembered. Jimin had mentioned it briefly at dinner last week – he’d said he was moving off campus, which was why he’d needed to return home to pack.

“I – he might have,” you said cautiously.

“I see.” She paused. “I just… I don’t want you feeling like you need to hold yourself back, honey.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Your mom glanced meaningfully at your phone. “I’m glad you’re taking time to yourself,” she said slowly. “It’s important to know who you are and what you want. But also – don’t feel like you need to follow someone else’s timeline when it comes to moving on.”

“I know, but…” You trailed off. “We only broke up in November.”

She shrugged. “Only you know when you’re ready, honey. I just don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for something that’s over. You’re allowed to be happy, even if you’ve messed up in the past.”

Swallowing, you glanced again at the gift. The plane ticket was for the day before New Year’s Eve. Plucking it from the box, you sat back on the couch.

“But…” you said lowly. “Mom, it’s only been two months.”

“And are you still in love with Finn?”

“No.”

“And did you learn anything from what happened this fall?”

“I… Yes. A lot.”

“Good.” Reaching out, she squeezed your hand. “Learn the lessons you need to learn, and then move on. Self-flagellation isn’t productive, Y/N.”

You nodded, still uncertain about what she was saying. Her words made sense, but everything she was saying uncovered a dormant fear. You were scared. Scared of hurting someone else, scared of being hurt by someone else in return. Your last relationship had ended so badly, it was hard to convince yourself it might be worth it to try again.

Finally, you turned to face her on the couch. “Does it ever get any easier?” you asked. “This fear of being hurt… does it ever go away?”

Something sad passed over her face. “Yes and no,” she said, pulling back her hand. “You’ll never be as innocent as you were in your first love. There’s something special about loving someone and never having been hurt before. Once you’ve gone through that kind of pain, you aren’t the same after. But… it does get easier. And better. You’ll know more about how to support this time, instead of tearing down. How to make a love stronger, instead of hanging on.”

Something about this speech gave you comfort, and you slowly nodded. Again, what she said made sense but if there was one thing you’d learned from the fall, it was no matter how great the advice was, it was impossible to take if you weren’t ready to hear it.

You continued wondering if the risk would be worth it. No matter how much you felt for Jimin, you couldn’t help but remember how you’d felt breaking up with Finn. You hadn’t been in love with him at that point and it had still been so painful. It was terrifying to imagine loving someone again and having things end the same way.

Your mom was right, though. You couldn’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t change. There were several ways you could move on from here. The main question to ask yourself was whether you wanted Jimin in the picture.

“Alright,” you said softly. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime.” Smiling, she stood and dusted off her pants. “I’m going to see if your dad needs help making breakfast. Don’t be too long, now!”

You nodded, watching her go, and then glanced at the ticket. Your mom’s words continued to run through your mind and after a moment, you picked up your phone.

Jimin had texted back.

Jimin: I would never!  [10:57 AM]

Y/N: hey, so  [11:01 AM]

Y/N: I did get one non-dance gift this year. A plane flight the day before New Year’s Eve  [11:02 AM]

Jimin: oh, wow! That was really nice of your parents  [11:03 AM]

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. When you opened them, you found yourself newly determined.

Y/N: when do you get back again?  [11:03 AM]

His ellipses started, then stopped, then started again.

Jimin: December 28th  [11:04 AM] 

Y/N: what are your New Year’s Eve plans?  [11:04 AM]

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you felt your heart catch. Maybe you’d misread things. Maybe Jimin had moved on and didn’t care about you anymore. Maybe he didn’t want you to tell him you were ready.

Jimin: I’m free 😊  [11:05 AM]

Jimin: want to be my New Year’s Eve date?  [11:05 AM]

Smiling ear to ear, you responded.

Y/N: yes. Please  [11:06 AM]

On the actual day of New Year’s Eve, you found yourself stressed beyond belief. Standing in front of the mirror of your dorm room, you adjusted your dress and worried over the hemline. Jimin had arranged to meet you around 7:00 PM and it was dangerously close to 6:55.

“Is the dress too short?” you asked, turning a little to face Noelle. “It is New Year’s Eve in the city. Should I wear pants, or something? Will I be cold?”

Noelle considered, then shrugged. “Just drink more. Problem solved!”

Snorting, you turned back to the mirror. Nervously, you smoothed down the front of your dress. You’d bought it at an after-Christmas sale and had fallen instantly in love. It had seemed perfect at the time, but now you were having second thoughts about the thin straps and tight bodice.

“Alright, so Y/N.” Noelle changed the subject. “Here’s the plan. Are you listening?”

Hiding a smile, you adjusted an earring. “Listening.”

“Good. Okay, so Ari and I will be at a party uptown. If the date goes badly, just say the word and we’ll call you a cab. You can be ringing in the new year with us within the hour.”

“Perfect,” you said. “It’s good to have a back-up.”

“It is.” Noelle paused. “Not that I think you’ll need this, of course.”

“Well, you never know.”

“Please.” She snorted. “What’s Jimin going to do? Be too charming? Too respectful of boundaries? Wear pants that show off his ass a little too much?”

“Noelle!”

She laughed, coming to a stop alongside you. Noelle wore a sparkly dress which made her skin glow, although this may have been the glitter dusted over her shoulders. Looking at herself in the mirror, she fluffed her hair.

“Seriously,” she said, meeting your gaze. “You’re going to be fine.”

“I know, I know.” Shaking out your arms, you forced yourself to exhale. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I went on a first date.”

Noelle considered. “That’s true. Allow me to give you some dating tips, then.”

Laughing, you turned around and sat on the futon. “By all means.”

“Alright – number one.” Noelle removed lipstick from her purse. “Don’t order anything with garlic. I know, that sucks because garlic is everything, but no one wants to make out while they have garlic breath. Rule number two!”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Who said anything about making out?”

Noelle gave you a pointed look. “Just in case it should happen…”

Shaking your head, you sunk back on the futon, but you knew she was right. Tonight was New Year’s Eve, after all. Ideally, you’d like to do more than kiss Jimin, but this seemed like too much of a jinx to say out loud.

Mentally, you agreed to the ‘no garlic’ rule.

“What else?” you prompted.

“Let’s see.” Noelle began to reapply her lipstick. “Relax.”

“What?”

Glancing at you in the mirror, she raised both brows. “I can see your shoulders tensing from here, babe. Just relax, okay? Tonight will be fine. You’re just hanging out with Jimin. You’ve done that before.”

“I know,” you groaned, lowering your face to your hands. “For some reason though, I’m very aware of the ‘date’ aspect of tonight. I don’t know why.”

When you looked up, Noelle gave you a sympathetic look, but before she could say more there came a knock at the door. Half-standing, you moved to open it, but Noelle shooed you back.

“Rule number three,” she said as she crossed the room. “Never answer the door for your own date.”

“What?” you laughed, although you sat back down on the futon.

Grabbing the handle, Noelle pulled open the door. Blocking you from view, she leaned her shoulder against the frame.

“Password?”

“What?” came Jimin’s voice, sounding confused.

“That’s correct!” Noelle stepped aside.

As you stood, you saw Jimin for the first time. He wore a pea coat over his outfit, his dark hair pushed back from his face in a devastating manner. When he saw you, Jimin froze, and you saw his eyes widen.

Silently, you congratulated yourself on having picked the right outfit. His gaze slowly trailed your body, lingering in places which made your cheeks heat. When he returned to your face, he slowly exhaled.

“Hey,” he said. “You… you look beautiful.”

Smiling back, you found yourself at a loss for words. “So do you.”

Jimin grinned and you stood there, smiling at each other like idiots until Noelle cleared her throat.

“Well,” she said, side-stepping Jimin to grab her coat. “I’m going to head over to Ari’s. You kids be safe, okay?”

“We will,” you laughed.

Noelle left in a flurry of kisses and glitter, waving goodbye as she stepped out the door. Jimin turned to face you once she was gone, offering a smile.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I brought you these.”

From behind his back, he pulled out pink peonies, which made you gasp. They were your favorites, a little limp from the cold, but still beautiful. Taking them gently from him, you turned them over in your hands.

“They’re wonderful,” you said happily. “Thank you.”

Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”

Glancing around, you found a clean glass near the sink and filled this with water. Arranging the peonies on your desk, you took a step back and cocked your head. You’d always thought the idea of flowers on dates was kind of cheesy, but now that you’d experienced it in person, it seemed unimaginably sweet.

“There,” you said, turning back. “All set.”

Jimin smiled at this, then glanced at your bare arms. “You’re going to be cold without a coat,” he said. “That’d be a bad way to start off the new year.”

“Oh – duh,” you said, hurrying towards your wardrobe.

Pulling a coat out, you slipped this over your dress and buttoned the front. As you left the room, you turned off the lights and shut the door behind you. Jimin walked with you down the hall, continually glancing your way from the corner of his eyes.

You felt oddly shy, despite this being Jimin beside you. Jimin, who you’d known since you were teenagers. Jimin, who’d been both the utter bane of your existence, along with the single person you trusted most in the world. He’d tossed you up in the air and caught you no question and somehow, this felt like the most daring thing you’d ever done.

It was strange to walk beside him, out on a date whose future held a large question mark. Excitement and uncertainty warred in your stomach, which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. You felt as though you stood on the edge of a precipice, staring into a ravine with no discernable bottom.

As you left the building, snowflakes swirled in the sky up above and you looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” you exhaled, breath frosting before you. “I didn’t realize it was snowing!”

“Yeah.” Jimin grinned, tilting back his head. “Snow is my favorite weather, actually.”

“The wet and the cold does it that much for you, huh, Park?”

“That, and the romance of it all.”

Your smile softened a little as you fell into step alongside him. The snow continued to drift as you walked, melting as soon as it touched the pavement.

“So, where are we going?” you wondered, glancing at him. “You said you’d tell me once you picked me up and I’ve got news for you, Jimin. I’m here. I’ve been picked up.”

“Right, sure.” He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I made a reservation at this restaurant around the corner. The food’s really good so I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Huh.” Jimin paused. “That was easy.”

You shrugged. “I’m just excited for tonight. That’s all.”

His gaze softened a little when he glanced at you. “Me, too.”

Smiling, you continued to walk alongside him. New Year’s Eve in the city was a grand affair. The sidewalks were still lit with holiday lights, people hurrying past in brightly colored coats. Privately, you were glad Jimin had made a reservation at a restaurant instead of trying to brave a club or a bar. You’d heard horror stories from people who paid extravagantly to get into a club, only to spend the entire night waiting in line at the bar.

Turning the corner, you saw the restaurant Jimin had chosen and brightened. It was one you’d walked past several times and always wanted to try but had never found time.

Jimin held open the door as you entered. The inside still had their holiday decorations up, garland strung across every surface with tiny, white fairy lights hung up above. Everyone who was dining wore formal attire, laughing and chatting in the glow of the fireplace. The food smelled amazing and immediately, your mouth watered.

Joining the line at the hostess stand, you waited for the couple before you to leave and then Jimin stepped up.

“Park,” he told her. “Party of two.”

The hostess smiled, nodding as she flipped through her notebook. “One moment, please.” The longer she looked though, the more her face fell. After a moment, she glanced up. “Park, you said?”

“Yes.” Jimin nodded. “P-a-r-k.”

The woman nodded, flipping through her notebook again as though the name might magically appear.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, glancing up again. “There seems to be some kind of mistake. I don’t have you listed as a reservation.”

Jimin’s expression faltered. “Can you look again?” he asked, leaning forward.

The hostess nodded, running her finger down the numbered rows. “I can’t find you anywhere. Do you remember who you spoke with on the phone?”

“Rebecca.”

“Oh.” Her face immediately fell. “Rebecca left the restaurant last week. It seems a few reservations slipped through in the transition. Is there… well, before I do that – let me see what I can do,” she blurted out, turning around to rush into the restaurant.

Jimin watched her disappear and you saw his expression tighten.

Silence fell between you as you adjusted your coat. Jimin looked stressed and you weren’t sure what you should do about it. Frantically, you tried to remember times he’d been stressed during class, but before you could do or say anything, the hostess returned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking harried. “The restaurant is completely booked up. I was trying to see if we could squeeze you in, but there’s just no room. I’m so sorry. Normally, only one person does the reservations, but we’ve been so busy lately...”

“It’s fine,” you said, jumping in. The poor woman looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Please, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure something out.”

Jimin glanced at you, surprised, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed, returning to the hostess. “Thank you so much for your help – I appreciate you trying. We actually have a back-up reservation somewhere else, so don’t worry. We’ll come back another time!”

“Oh, really?” Her entire face brightened. “That’s so good to hear. New Year’s Eve, and all. Thank you for being understanding!”

“Yes, busy night,” Jimin said with a smile. “Take care of yourself!”

The woman nodded, seeming grateful when you stepped out of line. Jimin followed your footsteps, heading towards the door and then came to a stop. Slowly, he exhaled.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Where are these back-up reservations?”

Jimin winced and met your gaze. “I have none,” he admitted. “She just looked so sad. I wanted to put her out of her misery.”

“Wait.” Piecing this together, you paused. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he said miserably. “I only made reservations here and that was super lucky, considering most places in the city have been booked for weeks. I don’t have any back-up plans.”

For a moment, you could only stare. “So, you said all that just so that poor hostess wouldn’t worry about a mistake her restaurant made?”

“I – well, yeah.”

You stared another moment, then started to laugh. It started out small but grew until eventually, you were wiping tears of mirth from your eyes.

Jimin watched you laugh, seeming thoroughly confused. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s just…” Shaking your head, you paused to catch your breath. “You’re unreal. Most people would be super stressed about New Year’s Eve plans falling through, but here you are lying to make a hostess’ night better.”

He blinked, still uncertain. “I’m… sorry about that.”

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted as you straightened. “It’s… wonderful,” you said to him shyly. “I like that about you.”

Slowly, his expression changed. “I really don’t have other plans, though,” he admitted. “I wasn’t lying about that. And I am stressed about my reservation falling through. I wanted this night to be perfect.”

The sweetness of this made your heart start to melt and newly determined, you nodded.

“We can fix this,” you said. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Like...” You paused. “We could hang out at my dorm. Or at your apartment! One of our kitchens has to be free, right? We could make dinner and hang out, watch the ball drop.”

“We could go to my place,” said Jimin slowly. “Hoseok and Alex are at a New Year’s Eve party uptown. We’d have the kitchen to ourselves.”

“Perfect,” you said. “Let’s go there.”

“I should warn you, though – I can only really cook one thing.”

“Spaghetti-o’s?”

“Okay, two things.”

You laughed. “So, what’s the first thing?”

“A pasta dish they taught us in Senior Foods class. But it’s nothing fancy.”

“Perfect.” You shrugged. “That will go nicely with my contribution of store-bought bread and olive oil.”

Jimin started to grin. “Alright, then, it’s settled. Let’s go to my place.”

You smiled when he opened the door, following him onto the sidewalk. Jimin’s new apartment was a few blocks away, but time passed quickly with him beside you. Oddly enough, the mishap at the restaurant seemed to have cleared some of the lingering awkwardness.

Noelle had been right, you realized – you had nothing to worry about while you were with Jimin.

He talked while you walked, detailing the ongoing fight at his apartment about some posters Hoseok wanted to hang. This segued into the general ridiculousness of New Year’s Eve – a topic you wholeheartedly agreed with.

“It’s stressful,” Jimin complained as you walked. “Everyone’s always asking about your resolution, you need to find someone to kiss at midnight, and there’s that super awkward moment with the countdown and your date…”

You laughed, grabbing a basket as you entered the grocery store. Jimin had suggested you stop by, since he didn’t have much food at his place.

“Doesn’t the countdown make it easier?” you joked. “It really dumbs the whole process down. Fool-proof.”

“Well, sure,” Jimin said. “But then you end up staring awkwardly at someone for ten seconds while you slowly lean forward and wonder when you should blink.”

Laughing, you reached on tiptoe for a loaf of bread. “Alright, you got me there,” you admitted. “I’ve never had a proper New Year’s Eve, anyways. I’ve always been dating someone and then, it’s just kind of assumed you’ll kiss. None of the magic you see in the movies.”

Jimin nodded. “Most of that’s just movie magic, though. You aren’t missing much – trust me.”

“I don’t know,” you said as you turned the next corner. “The anticipation sounds kind of nice. Wondering if someone will kiss you back, if they’re thinking about you the same way you are…”

Jimin made a humming noise, low in his throat.

Coming to a stop, he reached overhead to grab some pasta. Putting this in your basket, Jimin casually brushed your arm as you met his faze. Fighting back a shiver, you tried to remember what you’d been saying.

Giving a smile, Jimin continued forward and kept shopping. You stared after him a moment before your gaze dropped to his ass. Inhaling quickly, you remembered Noelle’s comment about Jimin’s tight pants. She hadn’t been wrong about that. Hurrying along, you quickly caught up.

Grabbing another jar, Jimin placed this in the basket. When he caught your eye again, he grinned, his hair falling forward. The sight made your heart flip-flop in your chest.

As you entered the check-out line, Jimin came to a stop alongside you. His gaze traveled the store, eyes widening when he glanced over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jimin gasped.

Startled, you turned. “What’s – hey!” you blurted when he took your basket.

Grinning widely, Jimin placed the food before the cashier. “Too slow.”

“Jimin, come on,” you said, slightly flustered. “I can pay. I –”

“You can pay next time, if you want.”

This shut you up and you stared at him a moment before you stepped forward.

“There’s… going to be a next time?” you said.

Jimin glanced in your direction. “If you want there to be.”

“I do,” you said softly, and he smiled.

Taking another step forward, he pulled out his wallet to pay and you let him – this time, anyways. Outside, it seemed to have grown colder since your arrival and you shivered as you exited the shop. Noticing this, Jimin immediately undid his scarf from around his neck.

“Here,” he said, handing it over. “I don’t need this.”

“But then you’ll be cold,” you pointed out, accepting it anyways.

“I’ll jog in place to keep warm.”

“… With me walking beside you?”

“Yep.”

You laughed, even more so when Jimin began to demonstrate. He jogged for a few steps, then slowed to a walk.

“Changed my mind,” he said with a wince. “I’d rather be cold.”

You laughed, cheeks starting to hurt from both this and the wind. Jimin’s apartment wasn’t far, although it did turn out to be a third-floor walk-up. This left you slightly winded when you arrived at his place, to which Jimin shrugged and said the rent had been cheap.

Opening his front door, he led the way into – boxes. Tons of them, although most of the furniture had been set up around them. Jimin fumbled for a light, flicking this on and setting down the groceries.

“Most of the boxes are Alex’s,” he sighed, looking around. “Hoseok and I have a secret deal we’re going to unpack him ourselves if he doesn’t do it by Monday.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a detriment to Alex.”

“I never said what we planned on doing with his things once we unpacked.”

You laughed, undoing your coat to set aside. Glancing around, you saw Jimin was right. Most of the boxes were scrawled in the same handwriting. Beyond them, you saw the living room had been mostly set up with a couch and TV.

To your right lay the kitchen, in which Jimin was already unloading the groceries. Beyond him was a hallway, through which you assumed were their bedrooms and bathrooms. Wandering back to Jimin, you realized he was staring.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop. “Did I spill something on my dress in the store?”

“No,” Jimin murmured, shaking his head. “I just… I know I said this before, but you really do look incredible.”

“Oh.”

Looking at him, you felt your face growing hot. Jimin smiled and ducked his head, resumed pulling things out of the bag. Stepping from your shoes to place in the hall, you returned to the kitchen and pulled out a stool.

Sitting down, you propped your chin in your hand. “Aren’t you going to take off your coat?”

Glancing down, Jimin blinked. “Oh,” he laughed, undoing the buttons. “I forgot I was wearing it.”

You smiled, but this quickly disappeared when you saw what he was wearing. Jimin had worn a dark blazer and trousers, paired with a paisley shirt and black boots. He looked ridiculously good and again, Noelle’s comment about his ass came to mind.

She’d been correct – his pants were well-shaped and well-formed.

After removing both coat and shoes, Jimin returned to the kitchen and pushed a hand through his hair. You watched him get to work, leaning forward a bit when he began to dice vegetables. Immediately, your brows raised. It seemed Jimin had undersold his skills in the kitchen.

When you said as much, he laughed.

“Maybe a little,” Jimin said. As he pushed veggies from the cutting board, the pan began to sizzle. “It’s all part of my master plan. Set expectations low, then over-deliver.”

“It’s working,” you said with a laugh. “You seem pretty damn impressive to me.”

Jimin’s cheeks reddened. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why would I lie?”

“I seem to remember some shocking texts about my junk and dancer’s belts. You could just be after my body, Y/N.”

“I – that’s not!”

He looked up and grinned. “Kidding.”

Flustered, you blurted, “That wasn’t nice!”

Jimin laughed. “I’m sorry.”

You huffed, waiting a minute before you continued. “You do look really good right now, though,” you said softly.

He looked up, eyes wide. As much as Jimin said he enjoyed being liked, it seemed to throw him for a loop whenever you said you liked him. It made you pause, mulling over this for a minute.

“You seem surprised,” you said quietly. “Whenever I say things like that, you always look surprised.”

“Well…” Jimin hesitated. “I just think… there’s been a lot of times where I never thought this would happen. It feels kind of unreal have you here. In my kitchen. On a date.”

“Times after November?”

Jimin paused.

Your brow furrowed. “Before then?”

Opening the pasta, Jimin added this to the pot. He stared into the steam, slowly exhaling before he looked up.

“Let’s just say I’ve wanted this for a while,” he admitted.

“What? But you hated me before Russet.”

“I…” Jimin trailed off. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

When he failed to elaborate and returned to his cooking, your eyebrows shot up.

“Uh, no,” you laughed. “You can’t just say that and not explain what you mean. What are you talking about?”

Jimin winced as he set down his spoon. “Okay,” he said, gripping the counter. “I guess what I���m saying is I never really hated you. Not truly.”

“You didn’t.”

“No.” He spoke flatly.

“But…” Confused, you searched his face. “You’ve hated me ever since we met, Jimin. That first weekend at NUVO dance competition. We were both called out to demonstrate and you tripped me!”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin released a low breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. That weekend happened a little differently from my perspective.”

“How so?”

“We were both called out to demonstrate,” he said, repeating your words. “But I hadn’t seen you before then. When we both reached center and I turned and saw you – I froze. I couldn’t remember how to act. Every thought I’d ever had just… flew out of my head.”

You stared at him, speechless.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jimin continued softly. “I’d never felt like that before. When you started to dance, it only got worse. I’d never seen someone dance like you did. That’s why I entered the combination late. That’s why I was in the wrong spot at the wrong time and that’s why I accidentally tripped you. I was… well, I was distracted.”

“By me,” you whispered. “You were distracted by… me?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” you said, breath catching. “This entire time, you haven’t really hated me?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Jimin rubbed the back of his neck. “You could be really infuriating,” he said with a laugh. “There were times when you genuinely pissed me off. I meant it when I said I wanted to win against you. But also… I don’t know. I never really forgot the first time I saw you.”

“Oh,” you whispered, unsure what you were feeling.

It made your head spin to hear this different version of events. Jimin hadn’t hated you – at least, not in the same way you had. He hadn’t been the one to make the first move after all. You had when you’d decided not to listen to his apology.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Hey – what’s wrong?”

Dropping his spoon to the counter, Jimin came around and stood beside you. Keeping your head down, you refused to look up until Jimin touched your arm.

“I just,” you exhaled, turning to face him. “It was my fault. This entire time, I thought you hated me and that’s why I hated you. But instead, I just decided to hate you – and for what?”

Jimin’s upper lip twitched. “I wasn’t entirely blameless, you know. I was such a little shit at that age. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.”

“You tried to apologize, though!”

“Hey.” Gently, he gripped your elbows. “If it makes you feel any better, I did trip people just to get to the front. I was an ass. It’s why that Jungkook guy hates me. I started dancing later in life, so I was really hung up on proving myself.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t true,” you told him. “You didn’t trip me on purpose, and if I’d only been less stubborn –”

“Whoa, hey.” Jimin smiled. “You weren’t the only stubborn one. Maybe it started off as a misunderstanding, but I didn’t really fight it. You were my competition as much as I was yours.”

“I guess,” you said quietly. “I just… I feel like I wasted so much time hating you. Maybe we could’ve even been friends.”

His gaze sparked. “Just friends?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Jimin,” you groaned, but started to smile.

“Listen.” Expression softening, Jimin moved closer. “Even if I had decided to explain all this in high school, would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.”

“Exactly. I was a dick back then.” He nodded. “Remember that one time I lied and told you the awards ceremony had been pushed back an hour?”

Sitting up straighter, you glared. “Oh, I remember. I showed up after they’d already taken the photo for Top Junior solos.”

Jimin grinned. “Or the time I put an out of order sign on the women's restroom after your solo at BRAVO, so you had to run all the way across the auditorium?”

“That was you!” you blurted out, wide-eyed. “No one would believe me when I said it was! Every girl was so pissed off at you that weekend.”

“Which is exactly why I could never admit it was me!”

In disbelief, you shook your head. “You did all of that just to get back at me?”

Jimin’s smile disappeared. “Hey, you weren’t innocent either,” he argued. “Remember the time you spilled an entire water bottle next to my bag so that when I sat down, my ass got all wet?”

Devious, you smiled. “Honestly, there was kind of an ulterior motive there. As much as I hated you, your ass looks great in damp sweats.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped a little.

Managing to shut this, he took a casual step forward. “Is that what you thought?” he murmured, barely able to conceal the thickness in his voice.

“I… may have noticed a few things about you.”

When he placed a hand next to you on the counter, your breath hitched in response. Jimin repeated this with his other hand, bringing his body a step closer to yours.

Hesitant, his gaze roamed your face. “What else did you notice?”

“I…” you exhaled and glanced at his lips.

The air between you could have been cut with a knife, heated for a different reason than the stove beside you. Which – eyes widening, you glanced over.

“Shit!” you blurted. “Jimin, the pasta!”

Startled, he looked in the same direction as you and realized the water was boiling. Rushing away, Jimin entered the kitchen and turned down the burner. Now that you were separated by a solid counter, you felt somewhat dazed when you glanced up and saw him.

Meeting your gaze, Jimin came to a stop. “Anyways,” he said softly. “Now, you know. I didn’t trip you on purpose. I never really hated you. And I’m incredibly glad you’re here tonight.”

Watching him speak, something warm bloomed in your chest.

“Me, too,” you whispered.

Smiling, Jimin returned to the pasta and you settled back on the stool. Delicious scents soon filled the kitchen and you realized how truly hungry you were. You hadn’t eaten much at lunch in preparation and by now, you were famished.

It wasn’t long before Jimin placed pasta onto plates, adding the bread you’d cut up on the side. He brought these to his table, disappearing briefly to return with two candles.

“Oo,” you said as you took a seat. “Fancy.”

Jimin lit the one closest to you with a flourish. “We aim to please, here at Park Jimin’s Fine Eating and Dining.”

“Is that the name of your restaurant?”

“It is.”

“And you’re set on that decision?”

“I decided on a whim, but I have no regrets,” Jimin said, taking a seat across from you. “Now, eat before you piss off the chef and he takes back your food.”

Laughing, you dug into the pasta before you. It was delicious and, after the very first bite, you sighed in appreciation. Apparently, Jimin had truly set the bar low. Conversation began to flow, any lingering tension disappeared after talk of your past.

It was the oddest thing. You’d heard stories from friends about other first dates. They worried about how to behave, what to wear, or what to say to their date – but none of these worries seemed to exist for you in the moment. You’d been so concerned before the night began, but now that you were here, all these worries seemed to fly out the window.

You’d thought you’d spend the entire night comparing. Comparing Jimin to your last relationship, comparing Jimin as a date to Jimin as a friend, but instead, it felt like natural progression. It wasn’t a matter of comparing Jimin to anyone else, but rather simply enjoying where the night led.

After dinner, you insisted on helping clean because Jimin had cooked and bought the food. Donning rubber gloves over your dress, you stood at the sink and began to wash dishes. Jimin laughed as he joined, pulling on gloves to dry the dishes beside you. Once this was done, he suggested watching a movie before the ball dropped.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you adjusted your dress and scanned the room. The posters Jimin had bemoaned were now hung over the TV – you wondered if Hoseok had managed to somehow sneak them past his roommates. Small touches here and there made you think of Jimin.

A game he’d mentioned was out on the coffee table and a blanket which smelled like him was draped over a chair. Pulling this towards you, you wrapped it around yourself as Jimin left the kitchen.

Holding two glasses of wine, he paused when he saw you.

“What?” you said, glancing down.

“Nothing.” Jimin cleared his throat. “Are you cold?”

“A little,” you admitted, tugged his blanket closer.

“Shoot.” Jimin frowned. “The heat’s been weird since we moved in. I’m not sure how to fix – oh!” Setting the glasses down, he rushed towards the hall. “Do you want a sweatshirt?” he called.

“Yes, please!”

Jimin reappeared moments later, a navy sweatshirt in hand. Handing this over, he settled beside you on the sofa. He’d ditched his blazer and now, Jimin was dressed in only the paisley shirt and slacks.

Pulling his sweatshirt overhead, you somehow managed to get stuck right away. It was hard not to, with your hair and the dress, trying not to flash him while you kept your legs crossed.

After a moment of watching your undignified struggling, Jimin cleared his throat.

“Need help?”

“Yes, please,” you said weakly.

Jimin laughed, helping you free and once the hoodie was settled, you sighed and leaned back. Glancing sideways at Jimin, you found him already looking at you.

“What do you want to watch?” you asked.

Jimin blinked, then glanced at the TV. “Hm,” he mused, grabbing the remote. “We could watch the ball drop and enjoy the fact that we’re sitting inside, not standing in the freezing cold without any bathrooms.”

“I know!” you said with a shudder. “Out of all the stupid traditions, that’s one I’ll never understand.”

“How do so many people have it on their bucket list?”

“Right? That, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Zero out of ten. It’s cold, there’s wind and again, there’s the question of bathrooms.”

Jimin laughed as he scrolled through the channels. “Alright, so no to the ball drop. Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“What movie?”

“Why’re you making me pick?” you whined, sinking deeper into his cushions. “That’s such a large amount of pressure.”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want to do it.”

You laughed and after some back and forth, decided to watch About Time. This was a movie about obstacles and falling in love, which seemed more than fitting because of the new year. At first, you and Jimin were watching diligently but eventually, he asked a question and conversation slowly drifted from the movie.

At some point, Jimin lowered the volume to focus solely on you. You curled deeper into the couch beside him, your thighs somehow touching and shoulders inches apart. Jimin’s head leaned against the cushion and he continued to smile in a way which made your heart flip.

“Here’s a question,” you murmured, no longer pretending to watch the movie.

His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “What?”

“Why’d you tell Sabrina you only wanted to be friends?”

Briefly, his eyes widened. “How did… you know about that?”

“She told me.”

“Hm.” Jimin gave you a dubious look but moved past it. Sabrina had begun hanging out with your friends as of late. “But alright, I’ll answer. If I do though, you need to answer one of my questions. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“So, I was single when I came to Russet.” Jimin paused. “It was the first time in a long time, and I may have hooked up with a couple of people.”

“Hm,” you said tightly.

His eyes danced with amusement. “Jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

He laughed. “Anyways, I only hooked up with Sabrina the one time. Afterwards…” Jimin sighed. “I felt kind of weird about her asking me to switch partners. Then I overheard what she said about Ari at weigh-ins and just didn’t feel like anything more... Plus, there was the other reason.”

“And what was the other reason?”

“I was starting to like you,” he said, a bit softer. “The day you said you wanted to be friends was a giant weight from my chest. And the more relaxed you were around me, the more… I don’t know. The more I liked you, I guess. My mom has always called me her hopeless romantic,” Jimin said with a smile. “I don’t know about that, but I can be single-minded when I like someone. That was part of the reason I told Sabrina we shouldn’t hook up anymore.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

His smile turned lopsided. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yeah. I guess it does.”

“My turn, then.” Smile disappearing, his gaze darkened. “Why did you really call me that night at the club?”

“Oh. That. Well, I –”

“And don’t say it was because I had a car,” Jimin interrupted. “There were a lot of people you could’ve called to help. You didn’t, though. You called me. Why?”

You hesitated before you realized there was only one answer. “I wanted to see you,” you said honestly. “I was scared, I was alone and… you were the person I wanted to see.”

Jimin’s gaze had become nearly black, the air between you thick with something unsaid. You were suddenly conscious of all each part of your body pressed to his. When Jimin shifted on the couch, you moved somehow closer.

He hesitated, then glanced at your mouth. “I don’t…” Jimin licked his lips, sounding hoarse. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“You won’t,” you told him.

Something uncertain passed over his face. “Maybe we should take things slow.”

“Or,” you said slowly. “I could tell you things I like about you, instead.”

“And what would be the point of that?”

Your gaze shifted to his. “You’ve told me a lot tonight about how much you like me,” you said softly. “About how long you’ve liked me. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”

Something in his gaze cracked and he nodded. The TV in the background was quiet, only the noise from the street and the whoosh of the heater breaking the silence.

“First,” you said, glancing down at his lap. “You have really nice hands.”

Jimin’s lips twitched. “My hands? I’ve always thought they were small.”

“Wrong. They’re the perfect size. Never have they dropped me.”

“Mm, that’s a good point.”

“And your smile,” you said.

“What about it?”

“I like your smile,” you told him. “It makes me smile.”

His eyes crinkled in demonstration. “Oh, yeah?”

“And your ears.”

Jimin laughed. “My ears?”

Reaching out, you delicately traced over an edge. “I’ve spent a long time looking at your profile, Park. I know what I’m talking about here.”

As your fingers moved lower, feather-light down his jaw, Jimin’s smile disappeared.

“I like your jaw, too,” you told him.

In the darkness, his gaze glinted, and you felt his jaw tense.

“And your lips,” you added, gaze lowering. “I like those a lot.”

“Y/N…” Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Yeah?”

He slowly exhaled. “I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“Jimin.”

He opened his eyes.

Your expression was serious. “I told you I wouldn’t jump into something before I was ready,” you said, lifting your other hand. “But I’m not in love with Finn anymore. It doesn’t hurt when I think about what happened last semester. I like you, Jimin. I want you. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I get if you’re unsure about this, though. If you’re unsure about me.”

Jimin’s gaze roamed your face. “Unsure?”

“I know I hurt you before. I shouldn’t have kissed you and ran away. But I promise this isn’t like that. I’m not running away. I’m the furthest thing from running and I –”

Cutting you off, Jimin pressed his lips to yours.

You shuddered a little, leaning into his kiss before he pulled back. Jimin exhaled, barely a breath before he kissed you again.

Noses brushing, lips lingering, the kiss slowly deepened. Your hands curled into his hair, pulling him forward to bask in his warmth. It was dizzying, how different this felt than last time. Last time you’d been heartbroken, desperately yearning each time your lips had touched.

Now, Jimin felt like air, like sunshine as you drowned in his presence. Hand grasping your waist, Jimin moved you closer so your chest nestled to his. Lifting his fingers, his touch skimmed your jaw, your hairline before he circled the nape of your neck.

Drawing away, he bit down on your lip. With a low sort of moan, Jimin sought your lips again. When his mouth opened yours, his tongue swept forward and you nearly combusted.

This was only to tease, though. Only to taste before he pulled away, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Thumb skimming your jawline, Jimin tilted your head back to brush a kiss to your throat. Moving higher, he worshiped a slow path up the column of your neck. At your ear, he nipped gently before he returned.

Now, his kisses began to deepen. Mouths opening, your tongues brushed only briefly before he chose to withdraw. You were glad you were kissing on the couch, because suddenly your own legs felt weak underneath you.

Hand re-gripping his waist, Jimin pulled you against him. Eager, your hands found his neck and the blanket dropped to the floor. It wasn’t enough, though – you needed more, wanted to feel him fully beneath you. Rising on your knees, you swung a leg over his lap and settled on top.

Jimin hissed, his head hitting the back of his couch. Your dress had ridden up in the process, exposing your thighs – his thumbs skimmed the surface before he looked up.

“Shit,” Jimin croaked.

Smiling, you bent to kiss him again. Jimin arched upwards, each part of your body electric where you touched. He shifted his hips, granting friction and heat which made you short-circuit. Pressing yourself closer, your thighs sild backwards until they nestled around his waist.

Jimin’s hand found your spine, pulling you closer as his hips pushed upwards. You groaned when you felt him shift underneath you. The kisses grew steadily hotter, this ache in your core increasing with every touch.

“Can I…” Pulling away, Jimin glanced lower. “Can I take off the sweatshirt?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit dazed.

Jimin didn’t waste time, helping you pull this swiftly overhead. It was tossed on the ground and when your dress was revealed, he inhaled.

Slipping his hands up your bodice, Jimin met your gaze. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he confessed, his voice hoarse.

“Do what?”

Your breath hitched when his hands skimmed your breasts, lingering in all your softest places.

“Touch you,” Jimin said. “It was torture to see you, to look at you and not be able to do this. Not how I wanted, anyways. I’d tell myself not to think about it, but…”

“Jimin.”

He paused and looked up. “Yes?”

“Touch me. Please.”

Without hesitation, Jimin slid his hands lower. Cupping your ass, he pulled you against him and allowed his other hand to drift up your spine. You shivered, closing your eyes as your head tilted back.

His hands slid up your front, over your breasts and under the straps of your dress. Jimin’s thumbs drifted lower, brushing your nipples through the fabric of your bodice. Opening your eyes, you looked down at him and saw his gaze darken.

Reaching higher, Jimin cupped the back of your neck and returned your lips to his.

He kissed you slowly, purposefully as you melted forward. Shifting against him, the kiss began to intensify. Mouths opening, your tongue swept forward in bold strokes against his. Suppressing a whimper, you ground your hips on his lap.

“Is,” you murmured, breaking free. “Is your bedroom unpacked?”

Jimin went still. “I – mostly, yeah.”

“Can I see it?”

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, releasing your thighs as he stood from the couch.

You laughed, sliding down his front as your feet hit the ground. Tugging your dress down, you followed Jimin when he grabbed your hand. He pulled you down the hall, coming to a stop at the last room on the row. Pushing open the door, he flicked on the light and came to a stop.

Stepping forward, you glanced around Jimin’s room. You recognized some of the items from the two times you’d visited Jimin in the dorms. Photos of his family were carefully hung on the wall and he had the same pillows laid over his queen-sized bed.

Turning around, you took a step backwards and sat on his bed. “It’s nice,” you said, patting the comforter. “I like it here.”

Jimin watched you, his gaze half-lidded from the hall. “I like you here.”

Cheeks heating, you watched him enter and gently shut the door. Leaning back on your elbows, you arched a brow.

“Where’d we leave off?”

Jimin exhaled as he crossed the room. “I think you were on my lap,” he said hoarsely, kneeling beside you.

You nodded, moving to straddle him as he leaned to the wall. Catching your waist with both hands, Jimin pulled you against him, kissing you roughly even before you sat down. Suddenly ravenous, his hands slid to your ass as he rolled you against him. Inhaling sharply, you sucked his lower lip between teeth as he groaned.

Reaching up, Jimin tugged on your hair as you inhaled, throat exposed for him to kiss slowly down your front. When he returned to your lips, you ground your hips impatiently over the bulge in his pants.

Shifting his weight, Jimin’s spine hit the wall. He stared at you, slightly dazed with his kiss-reddened lips. Without looking away, Jimin lifted his fingers and began undoing his shirt. You stilled, watching each inch of skin be revealed. When he reached the last button, you gave in and helped push this aside. Smiling, Jimin sat up as his shirt fell to the floor.

You weren’t sure where to look first. Hands faltering, you slid them up his abs, over his shoulders and down his biceps. He was so perfect, it almost hurt to look at. Jimin’s breath quickened as you touched him and slowly, he lowered you down to the bed.

“Enough,” he said roughly, returning your lips to his.

As you kissed it turned lazy, nothing but grinding and touching. Jimin’s hair was messy beneath the pull of your fingers. He didn’t seem to mind, his own hands digging into the curve of your thigh. Playing with the hem of your dress, he deftly slid upwards.

“Jimin,” you said, breaking free. “Unzip me.”

His gaze darkened. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Jimin nodded, following suit when you sat up beside him. Turning around, you exposed your back and Jimin began to lower the zipper. He moved slowly, taking his time as his fingers brushed skin. Holding the dress up with your hands, you waited until it was fully unzipped before releasing it to the floor.

Turning around, you found Jimin’s jaw slack.

“You…” He roughly inhaled while he scanned your body. “Lace, Y/N? Really?”

“Do you like it?” you asked.

You may have gone overboard preparing for tonight. Although you hadn’t been sure what would happen, you also hadn’t wanted to be caught off your guard. Tonight, your constant need to plan had come in handy. Beneath your dress you’d worn a crimson lace bra and panties – a matching set which Jimin seemed to like, based on his expression.

“You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, lowering his lips to your neck.

Kissing slowly down your chest, he came to a stop where the two halves joined together. Skimming the length of your torso, his hands trembled a little when he brushed the lace.

Jimin looked up. “I’m sorry I keep touching you,” he murmured. “I just – you’re driving me crazy. You’ve been driving me crazy.”

“You said that before,” you whispered.

“I meant it.”

Kissing again up your body, he lingered in places your skin was exposed. Inhaling, your eyes fluttered shut as you grasped his shoulders.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs. “Part them,” he murmured, and you obeyed.

Heart racing, you opened your eyes and watched Jimin drag a finger slowly up the center of your panties. Even you could feel how damp the fabric was, how wet and ready you were for him.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jimin sucked. “You’re soaking,” he breathed, sounding eager. “So good to me.”

Lowering his head, his tongue flicked your breast. Teasing the nipple through fabric, he urged and he sucked until it was fully erect. Moving onto the next one, Jimin grazed with his teeth until it pressed wantonly into the lace cup of your bra. Moaning his name, you arched against him.

Finding your wrists, Jimin pinned you backwards as he continued. Thighs caging your waist, he kept you hostage with his exquisite torture. The lace of your bra was now drenched, Jimin sucking debauchedly through fabric.

“Jimin,” you groaned, twisting on the sheets. “Please.”

His hips rolled lazily against your center. “Not yet,” he insisted before pulling back. “Not until you make a mess of my sheets. Want to ruin these panties.”

Sliding a hand between your thighs, he lightly circled your entrance. Feeling how wet you were, Jimin softly groaned. Sitting back on his heels, he finally relented and pulled your panties down. Tossing these to the floor, he returned to your thighs and spread your legs.

Lightly, Jimin dragged the pads of his thumbs up and down your panty line. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “Got my sheets fucking soaked.”

Separating two of his fingers, he slowly dragged his digits up and down your folds. You inhaled, feeling needy while you watched him touch you. Each brush of his fingers had you dripping – teasing over your entrance, he refused to give you exactly what you wanted. Feather-light, Jimin circled your swollen clit with his finger.

Hands gripping the sheets, you could only stare while Jimin brought you closer and closer to the edge. He was barely touching you, but it was the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. Jimin’s thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing you gently as you keened in frustration, arching against him.

He continued like this until you were gasping, begging for more and then ��� only then – did he slide a finger inside you. Legs trembling, you arched on his mattress and stared at him, glassy-eyed. When Jimin began to move in and out, you lost all control.

Lowering his head, he closed his lips over your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered as you broke apart.

Barely did he suck before you were coming undone, pulsing around his fingers. Shuddering with pleasure, you collapsed on the bed as you rode out your high. Gently, Jimin pulled out his finger and returned to your lips.

Reaching behind you, he undid the clasp of your bra and tossed this on the floor. Once you were fully naked, he pulled you against him. You felt limp, thoroughly sated, but familiar excitement began to stir at his front pressed to yours. Tilting your head, he gently kissed you while your fingers wound in his hair.

Jimin moved slow, letting you take the lead. Your core continued to throb with oversensitivity, although this seemed to lessen the longer you kissed him. Before long, your nipples were hardening as you rubbed against him. Fingers digging into your thigh, Jimin pulled this over his hip to watch you lazily grind.

Realizing he still wore pants, you lowered a hand, determined to fix this. Jimin helped, dragging the zipper down to throw both these and his boxers down on the floor.

He bent to kiss you again, but you placed a hand on his chest. “Wait,” you murmured. “I want to see you.”

Jimin exhaled, leaning back so you could take in his body. If you’d thought his chest was unreal, it was nothing compared to his trim hips, sculpted thighs and cock nestled between.

“Oh,” you said, dragging a hand down his front.

Jimin shuddered a little. He was already hard, his cock thick and pretty with a reddened tip. It made your mouth water to look at, wanting to lick up the shaft. Reaching between you, you closed your fist around him and slowly jerked him off.

You watched in fascination as Jimin responded. His jaw tightened, abs tense while you teased over his frenulum. His cock responded instinctively, hardening further the longer you touched him.

After a few minutes of this, Jimin shook his head. “No more,” he said huskily, taking your hand in his. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Oh?” you murmured, gaze darting lower.

He chuckled, a rough sound in his throat. “I like watching you come,” Jimin confessed, his cock hard between you. “It turns me on. I’m… still trying to recover from your last orgasm.”

“Oh,” you said, in a completely different way.

Jimin exhaled, hair falling forward. “I hope that doesn’t weird you out.”

“Does it… weird me out that you like giving orgasms?”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“How else would I put it?”

His grin became devious. “You could ask for another.”

Breathless, you nodded and Jimin’s gaze darkened.

He descended your body, not wasting any time as he positioned himself between your legs. Licking slow up your center, you gasped and instinctively drew your legs higher. Jimin didn’t bother easing you into it. No, now he ate you out like he wanted to.

Kissing your folds, he returned to your clit and sucked this into his mouth. Rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue, he teased and released before you knew what was happening. He continued to do this, spreading you underneath him and bringing you close to coming, only to pull back and leave you maddeningly empty.

Spreading your folds, he began licking sweetly over your clit. This was followed by loose, lazy sucking and more tender flicks. You stared dazedly at him between your legs, the sight more erotic than anything you could’ve imagined.

Grinding his cock into the sheets, Jimin thrust his hips while he pleasured you. You could tell he enjoyed this; each grunt from his lips was more affirmation. Moving lower, he circled your cunt with his tongue just to lap up your juices. You gasped at the sensation, having never felt it before. Flicking your clit with his thumb, Jimin fucked your cunt with his tongue before he slowly withdrew.

Spreading you wide, he returned to your clit and you clasped a hand over your lips before a moan could escape. Each curl of his tongue left you gasping, writhing beneath the pleasurable onslaught of his mouth. Pulling away, Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh before he rose up your body.

At your mouth, he kissed your fingers. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he told you. “I want to hear the noises you make, Y/N. It makes me feel good.”

Removing your hand, you slowly nodded.

Jimin just grinned, dropping between your legs to begin eating you out again. This time, you didn’t hold back. Jimin seemed to appreciate this as you slipped further from control. He was so good with his mouth, making you see stars as your legs started to shudder. When he slid his finger inside you and fingered you again, your hands fisted in the sheets.

“Ji-jimin,” you gasped, writhing beneath him. “Jimin, I – oh.”

He began to move faster, adding a second finger as your insides clenched around him. Everything tightened, hovering at a breaking point while Jimin continued, relentless. His mouth on your clit, his fingers inside you – everything broke apart when you came, gasping his name.

Jimin didn’t move, kissing your sex as you slowly came down. He lapped at your sex, licking up your arousal before withdrawing his fingers. Once your breathing had steadied, Jimin returned to the sheets beside you.

“Good?” he breathed, draping an arm over your waist.

“Oh my god, yes,” you exhaled, burying your face in his chest.

He laughed, pulling you closer. Jimin started to pull away, which made you look up and frown.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He paused. “I’m looking for a tissue.”

“Why?”

“I… I’m kind of at a loss here.”

“No, I mean why now,” you said, baffled. “I can come again, Jimin. I want to come with you inside me.”

Jimin stared at you a moment.

“Unless…” Uncertain, you hesitated. “You don’t want to…?”

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, sounding hoarse. “No – I want to. I really want to. Are you sure, though?” he said, reaching to open the side drawer of his bed.

You grinned when he pulled out a condom, ripping this open.

“I’m sure,” you murmured, moving closer.

Jimin rolled the condom onto himself, pausing before he went any further. Shifting his weight so he hovered over you, Jimin searched your gaze. Reaching lower, you casually stroked his cock and guided him to your center.

He didn’t enter yet, content to take his time. Instead, Jimin bent and kissed you, dragging a hand down your side. His fingers paused at your breast, tweaking your nipple until it stood fully erect. Moving to your waist, he curved under your ass and lifted your hips to his.

Arching upwards, you felt his cock brush your center. The touch made you pant, wanting him inside you and wanting it now. Rolling over his length, you marveled at the feel of him between your legs. Having him so close and not having him inside you was maddening.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, continuing to thrust between your thighs.

“Please,” you begged him.

“Alright, baby,” he said and rolled you onto your back.

It was the first time he’d used the endearment, sending a wave of warmth through you as your legs parted. Reaching lower, Jimin positioned himself at your entrance. It took him a moment to work his way in; you were so wet, he needed a second try. With only his tip inside, you immediately clenched and buried your head in his shoulder.

Lightly, Jimin brushed a kiss to your hair. “Relax, baby,” he murmured, making you glance up. “I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Slowly, you nodded. “Okay.”

Laying slowly back down, you tried to relax while he worked his way deeper. With slow, shallow thrusts, Jimin finally bottomed out and you stared at him in amazement. His cock was thicker than you were used to and stuffed to the brim like this, you felt so full. Glancing down, you saw his hips nestled snugly to yours.

When you looked up, Jimin met your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled, hanging his head. “I just – I need a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” you blurted, immediately worried.

A smile passed over his lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He looked up. “You’re just… fuck. I feel like a damn virgin. You’re so tight and wet, I’m losing my mind.”

Hearing him say this sent a shiver through you. Shifting your hips, you reveled in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Jimin groaned. “No,” he protested. “You can’t do that right now.”

“Do what?”

“Try and make me move,” he murmured. “I know you can’t see yourself, so you can’t see how hot you look. Tits out, pussy spread and dripping all over my cock.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

“Sounding like that.”

“Jimin. If you don’t –”

He suddenly thrust deeper, grinding his pelvis against your core and making you groan. Speechless, you stared as he slowly pulled out. Jimin teased you with his tip, moving a few inches back in before he thrust again.

“Oh,” you groaned, jolted upwards on the bed.

His gaze dropped to your chest. “Fuck,” Jimin said quietly, dropping down to an elbow.

He moved again in earnest, thrusting slowly in and pulling back out. It made your breath catch, needing more but loving the torture. It was torture to feel every inch of him and have Jimin continue to hold back. You knew he could go faster, deeper, but wanted to stay in control.

Dropping his head, Jimin slowly kissed your neck. His cock continued to move, fucking you slowly as your legs opened wider.

“Jimin,” you whimpered.

Your hips chased after his, hoping to coerce him deeper.

He smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” you said, arching against him. “I want more.”

“You want it harder?”

As he said this, Jimin increased his strength. Keeping the tempo the same, each thrust of his cock had your lips parting with pleasure.

“Yes,” you whimpered, barely hanging on.

“And faster? You want that, too?”

You nodded, slack-jawed as Jimin sped up the pace. His cock began to pound into you, hand fisting in sheets as he gave it to you hard. Arching underneath him, your hands dragged down his back as Jimin fully let go. With each thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed your clit and yet, it still wasn’t enough.

“More?” he teased, continuing to fuck you.

“More,” you whimpered, sliding your hands up your breasts. Tweaking the nipples, you watched his gaze harden. “I want more, Jimin.”

He immediately moved, as though he’d been waiting for this. Grasping your ankles in one hand, he lifted them high overhead and pulled his cock out. You gasped when he did so, your hands falling to the side while you were put on display. The position pushed your pussy lips together, giving an incredible view of your dripping cunt.

Jimin plunged his cock back inside, nearly making you scream. It felt so deep this way – so deep and hard and deliciously wanton. Jimin fucked you from above, hips slamming into you and making your breasts bounce.

Jimin groaned, his hips never faltering. “Touch them,” he said, lowering your ankles to one shoulder. “Touch your tits for me, baby.”

You obeyed, hands sliding over your breasts to tease your nipples. This sent a shock of pleasure straight to your core and Jimin hammered your g-spot, making you see stars. Jaw slack, you could only lie there and take it while he made you come.

It was too much, the wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm, but then Jimin leaned forward and you finally snapped. You felt him release into the condom as you fell apart, rope after rope of hot cum inside you.

Eventually, Jimin softened and fell onto his elbow. As he opened his eyes, he sought your gaze and you smiled. His cheeks were flushed, his hair dark and sweaty and you couldn’t help the deep surge of affection within you.

“I don’t know about you,” he murmured. “But that was pretty fucking incredible.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Three orgasms weren’t enough?”

“Were they enough for you?”

“No.” Jimin laughed. “I could watch you come all night. But we should probably get you cleaned up and all that.”

“Probably,” you agreed, although you made no effort to move.

Eventually Jimin sighed and gently pulled out. Tossing his condom in the trash, he showed you to the bathroom and let you do what you needed to do. When you returned, Jimin was on top of his bed. He’d put back on his boxers and held out his sweatshirt.

“I thought you might want this,” he said, uncertain.

Smiling, you took it and lowered it over your head. Climbing beside him on the bed, you rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled beside him. Listening to his breathing, you concentrated until yours started to match.

Outside, cheers erupted from the street. Scrambling upwards, you fought to look out Jimin’s side window. As you hurried to see what the commotion was about, Jimin groaned when you flashed him your bare ass, but followed suit.

Glancing outside, you realized it must have turned midnight. Fireworks went off over the skyline, people cheered below, and someone had lit a sparkler on the street. Voices drifted higher, wishing each other a happy new year as slowly, you turned around to face Jimin.

He smiled at you, his happiness clear when he pulled you to him. A dizzying rush of what-if’s and excitement went through you and somehow, you knew this would be only the beginning.

“Happy new year,” he murmured.

“Happy new year,” you whispered, tilting your face up to his.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this series 😊 It’s been a whirlwind, so thank you for sticking with our main characters throughout the journey! I hope you enjoyed and are having a wonderful holiday season :) happy (almost) new year!

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST 

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[sillyguyhotline]

UwU Actually comes from a big family! However he and his mom and his grandparents are the only ones who stayed in Japan. His aunt and her family lives in the US. Keiji and his mom does fly out there for the Holidays. Keiji has a bunch of potted. His mom got him a monstera and a bamboo plant as housewarming gifts when he moved out (Post-Mr. Policeman's death). They're surprisingly still alive. Since then he has gotten more plants to add color and life to his apartment. Ms. Shinogi loves hidden object games. On her days off, her and a younger Keiji would play hidden object games on her old computer. She owns the whole collection of the Nancy Drew Hidden Object games. One can say this help kick start Keiji's obsession with being a detective/police officer. On the topic of computer games, Keiji like point n' clicks games and solitaire. He's really at solving good at Sierra and LucasArts games but he's shit at playing card games unless it's Uno. Before she had Keiji, Ms. Shinogi used to be a model/child actor. Ms. Hitomi saw Keiji as her way out of the spotlight. Keiji thinks he ruined her career despite her reassurance. Keiji has experimented with hair dye once he starts going to therapy and taking medication. Blue, orange, brown, and green are out of the question. He's thinking about a dirty blonde or at least letting his roots show through. Keiji gets his neck rubbing and other hand gestures from his mama. Keiji and his mom often cook meals together. It's their way of winding down and asking each other about their day. Keiji is a dad (WHEN HE'S LIKE 35). UwU Depending on which AU, Keiji is either married to Kai with a daughter named Athena. Single dad who's coparenting with/dating Q-taro with a daughter named Amelia. It's a lot. If you knew my mind, you would understand. Ms. Shinogi loves to knit. She makes matching gloves, hats, and scarves for Keiji (and his daughters). Keiji doesn't wear scarves. Doesn't like having his neck restricted in any way. Keiji likes calamansi soda. An unique flavor. His mom likes lemon flavor soda. Bestie, I have so many family headcanons. I wish I could write about them.

I LOVE ALL OF THESE… the little nancy drew detective thing helping jumpstart keiji’s desire to be a detective is so cute… i love keiji caring so much about his mom and still trying to be a good son… i love keiji taking care of plants too :] especially with him actually being good at caring for them because you’d definitely expect him to be the sort of person who’d struggle with that. but no he’s a protector he likes taking care of things esp at low stakes !!

[harryandmolly]

Change of Pace - Epilogue (Late Summer 2019)

cowritten by @achinglyshawn

summary: Shawn and Maya meet again 10 years after life got in the way of love

warnings: language

wc: 3.5k

----------

Shawn doesn’t settle at the piano until the crowd at Emilia’s has grown. The loud chatter echoing in the small restaurant quiets when he turns down the music tinkling through the soundsystem. Heads turn towards the sleek black piano in the corner of the restaurant as he places his well-practiced fingers on the ivory keys. 

He speaks into the microphone as he begins to play his favorite melody. 

“This is a song about finding love again when you least expect it,” he coos softly, so as not to interrupt anyone who doesn’t care for the live music. 

(He’s not sure why you’d come to Emilia’s on a Thursday night if you don’t like live music, but to each their own.) 

“Maybe I had too many drinks, but that's just what I needed. I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited…” 

Chatter in the restaurant kicks up again, but those closest to him seem willing to forgo conversation for a free concert. It’s quiet in this little corner of Emilia’s, save for the plinking of the piano and the delicate croon of his falsetto. 

“When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me, like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughing...” 

Maya’s at her new favorite table watching her old favorite guy do his favorite thing. Back in the day, she and Shawn used to cozy up in a booth in the far corner. They could be gross and kiss there without anyone looking at them funny. They were kids. 

Shawn plays regularly at Emilia’s now and Maya loves to watch, especially on days like today. Maya’s been in the studio she shares with Shawn since just after her sunrise surf. She’s had one of her first commissions since starting to paint semi-professionally in Avila and spent her whole day focusing on the piece — it’s a landscape, oil on canvas, based on a crumpled old Polaroid the client got from his grandparents of the boardwalk when they lived in Avila years before. It’s nice. Maya’s proud to do it. 

She and Shawn expanded his studio when the space next to his came available. Now it’s their studio. Mostly, she adds her artistry to his instruments, adding little painted elements or even much larger ones, like in the case of that first piano Shawn built. She ended up adding a whole gorgeous Avila sunset mural on top. It sold for a lot (!) more than expected. Her business acumen has also helped them in their new ventures together. 

Tonight is a welcome break from it, though. They’ve both been working themselves so hard to finish pieces commissioned by some of Margaret’s San Francisco finance friends. But tonight, back at Emilia’s like nothing ever changed and at the same time like they’re brand new, Shawn plays her song. 

Not her only song, obviously. He’s written her many over the years. This is the new one, the one he started a decade ago, tripped over through that first hazy summer and finished around the time they decided to move in to Maya’s cottage together. She’s heard it before, whispered into her hair, plucked quietly against the backdrop of sea and sand on their daybed outside. Never like this, in front of a crowd of strangers who mostly all know their story. 

Maya watches him smile as he sings the words like he always does, like he has a secret, like he got the girl in the end after all the trouble. It makes her smile too. 

Shawn takes a breath, suddenly aware of Maya’s eyes on him from across the room, though he hasn’t looked up since he began playing. 

“Don't know why I tried, ‘cause ain't nobody like you, familiar disappointment every single time I do…” 

She must’ve tucked into their new favorite table right as he started playing, or else she would’ve pressed a good luck kiss to his temple like she always does before he performs. She insists he doesn’t actually need luck, but they both like the tradition, anyway.

“Every single night my arms are not around you, my mind's still wrapped around you. 

Baby, tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'. Baby, anytime you're ready, I'm waitin'...” 

He knows where she is without searching, so when he tilts his head and finally opens his eyes, she’s there, staring him down like he’s something magical she’s never seen before. His face heats, because even after all these years, being the sole focus of Maya’s attention makes his heart race. 

He catches her gaze with his and the corner of his mouth ticks up in a tender smile. Memories of the night before race through his mind and send a shiver down his spine; memories of staying up far too late to make love over and over until sleep pulled Maya under, with Shawn easily following. 

His breath hitches, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of her as he continues to sing the words he’s already pressed into the curve of her neck while tangled together between their sheets. 

“Even ten years from now if you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around. Tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'...” 

Maya’s lips switch around a shy smile. She knows, somehow, when he’s looking at her like that, that he’s thinking about last night.

Last night is just the latest in a long thread that they’ve had since reestablishing their relationship. They’re hot and frantic or lazy and sensual and completely perfect. They’re the kind of nights when sleep holds no appeal at all, that touching each other is the only kind of satisfaction they need.

A curl flops over Shawn’s eyes as he plays and sings right at her. She grins for real because she can’t help it and props her chin up in her hand as she watches.

A pair of warm, flabby arms wrap gently around her shoulders and she feels the weight of a chin on her head.

“You know,” Emilia’s gritty voice says softly near Maya’s ear, “I think the two of you are my favorite thing that’s ever happened in this little beach town.”

Maya rubs Emilia’s arm and nods. “I think I agree.”

Emilia winks at him from her perch above Maya’s head. Shawn flushes, still unable to control the rush of blood to his cheeks each time Emilia looks at him with that mysterious twinkle in her eye. He watches the women murmur to one another, and his heart beats a little faster, just enough to feel against his ribcage. 

But before the galvanized rhythm can overwhelm him, Shawn closes his eyes and continues to sing. His voice is soft, as though he’s decided to sing the rest of the song to himself. Sometimes it’s the quiet moments with his music that have the most powerful impact on an audience, and more importantly, on the woman he’s in love with. 

“And if I have to, I'll wait forever, say the word and I'll change my plans. 

Yeah, you know that we fit together, I know your heart like the back of my hand…” 

Shawn’s energy shifts. He gets quieter, like he forgets he’s not in the studio playing quietly for her or in their house, sitting at the baby grand piano he built for them as a housewarming gift when he moved in. 

But there’s just so long he can go without looking at her. His gaze is drawn to her, as if pulled by a magnetic field so strong he couldn’t fight it if he wanted. His fingers climb along the piano keys while he watches Emilia press her cheek into the top of Maya’s head. It’s his turn to wink, but he directs it at Maya.

“So baby, tell me when you're ready, I'm waitin'. Baby, anytime you're ready, I'm waitin'...”

She giggles at the way Emilia squeals teasingly in her ear. As Shawn’s voice fades out and the song ends, the restaurant claps politely. Maya mimes whistling at him and continues clapping.

Emilia releases her from her loving near stranglehold. Maya tilts her head up at the woman’s face, grinning ear to ear and covered in sunspots.

“Can I have a coffee milkshake with caramel and whipped cream please?”

Emilia tosses her head back and laughs, a big, strong belly laugh that doesn’t match the finer aesthetic she’s created for her still quirky restaurant since the renovation. They don’t even have milkshakes on the menu anymore -- too lowbrow. But Emilia kept the machine. Maya and Shawn are glad she did.

Shawn manages to catch Maya’s request when he’s heading to their table. He grins up at Emilia, slings his arm over Maya’s shoulders and slides into the seat beside her. 

“I’ll take a chocolate shake, Em, if it’s not too much trouble.” The smile that splits his lips is as sugary as the treats they’ve ordered. Emilia calls it his ‘popstar smile’ when she’s trying to give him shit, but he thinks she likes it more than she lets on. 

The woman shakes her head, but smiles as she wipes her hands on the front of her black apron. “You’re always too much trouble, kid.”  

Emilia gives Maya one last look, something Shawn can’t quite read, then scurries back to the kitchen, repinning her curls to the top of her head as she goes. 

“So,” he murmurs, angling himself towards Maya, “What were you two talking about? I can only assume it was me.” His nose nudges her temple, lips brushing over the apple of her cheek. 

With his heavy arm around her shoulders, Maya curls comfortably into Shawn, resting her hand on his stomach as he peppers her cheek with kisses. She can feel the way he smiles through it, just happy to be close to her. She knows the feeling.

Maya crosses her legs, resting her foot against his calf. She shrugs. “You always think everything is about you. You’re not the sun.”

She’s teasing. He knows she was talking about him anyway. She moves some floppy curls out of his eyes.

“She just loves us, that’s all.”

“Everyone seems to love us these days, don’t they?” he asks with a smile. 

Maya and Shawn are a bit of local lore. The town is small and it talks. Everyone knows about the guy who owned the workshop whose long lost love came back to where they spent a few weeks in love one summer, and how the beach brought them back together. They’re not too nosy, but Maya and Shawn are noticed, and not just by Emilia.

She brings them their milkshakes, making a silly show of pretending to hide them so the other customers won’t wonder where they came from.

Shawn nearly moans. The milkshakes are beautifully decorated, with a smooth caramel drizzle topping Maya’s whipped cream, and a deep brown ribbon of chocolate swirled around his own. 

“Em,” he says with a laugh, “If you wanted to be inconspicuous with these, you shouldn’t’ve made them so pretty.” Shawn grabs his spoon and digs into the homemade whip Em always keeps around just in case he and Maya stop by. 

“Maybe,” hums Emilia, “But y’all deserve a nice treat every now and then.” With that, she drops a kiss to the top of Maya’s head and shuffles off to the busy kitchen. 

“She’s spoiling you rotten, Lemon,” Shawn garbles around a spoonful of milkshake. As he swallows, his mouth stretches into a wide, close-lipped smile, his cheeks ruddy, the corners of his eyes crinkling.  “But I don’t think I can blame her.” 

Maya rolls her eyes, swallowing her own enormous mouthful of espresso-y goodness. She winces at the slight brain freeze and shakes her head quickly before answering.

“Spoiling you, too. She gave you extra whip, I can tell,” Maya accuses playfully, jabbing her spoon at his overflowing glass.

She settles back into his arm and continues poking at her own shake. The restaurant is lively tonight, warm with conversation and good energy. Emilia’s is almost always like that. It’s why she and Shawn love it so much. She may even miss it while they’re gone.

“How much do you have packed?” Maya asks him carefully after swallowing, narrowing her eyes.

They leave for Greece tomorrow. Three weeks of beach hopping around the coast, exploring little towns, enjoying history, even taking some sailing lessons in the Mediterranean.

Maya herself has barely packed. But he doesn’t need to know that.

Shawn wipes a dribble of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. He tilts his head, swirls his spoon in his glass so the rest of his whipped cream mixes with the shake. 

“Packed? For what?” he asks with a quirk of his brow. He keeps his gaze trained on his glass, the most promising method for maintaining his silly rouse. 

A bag full of light summer linens packed specifically for Greece is stashed on his side of the walk-in, where it’s been for a few weeks now. Shawn’s been eager to get away with Maya since even before they bought the plane tickets. Packing his bag so early was a cathartic release for the frantic energy of his anticipation. 

He certainly has more to pack, though. It’s hard, however, when every free moment he has tends to be occupied by efforts to make his girlfriend come as much as possible. 

Maya rolls her eyes and swallows a mouthful of ice cream, elbowing him softly.

“For what, he asks. Like you’re not counting the seconds.”

They both are. They both have been. They don’t lead extraordinarily stressful lives, but they’ve been pushing hard lately. They took on their first commissioned project together, a harp with an intricate design described and ordered by a doting grandfather for his granddaughter. He sent to pick it up yesterday and called the studio to relay his effusive praise personally, letting them know it would not be his last purchase and he wanted to tell all his friends about them.

Now that that project is done, they’re ready for vacation. Maya herself still has some things to toss into a bag. She’s packing light, though. Staying in a series of villas around Greece with Shawn doesn’t call for much in the way of clothes. Some light, breezy dresses, plenty of bikinis, and not much else.

She can’t fucking wait.

She finishes the milkshake with a deeply contented sigh and presses her cool lips to the side of his neck. 

“What are you most excited about?” she coos, the same question she’s asked over and over since they booked the trip -- a fun way to anticipate and daydream as they prepared for their first vacation together since they came to Avila as kids.

Shawn hums. He pushes his own empty glass away and curls his arm tighter around Maya’s shoulders, tipping his head so his cheek brushes the top of hers. 

“I think--” the word is drawn out, as if he really has to consider what might possibly excite him during their trip, “I think I’m most excited about finding a little cafe where you’ll jump up on the table and start singing Dancing Queen to me. Or Mamma Mia. Whichever fits the cafe scene better.” 

Shawn smiles into the kiss he presses to Maya’s head. The scent of her coconut milk shampoo floods his senses and he sighs, content to spend the rest of his life with his nose buried in her hair. As much as he’s looking forward to their trip, nothing beats being nestled together at their favorite table in their favorite restaurant, full of their favorite milkshakes. 

Maya snorts. “Gonna have to feed me a lot of ouzo to get that to happen.”

She has no doubt there will be a lot of ouzo and a lot of cafes. But if Shawn wants Maya singing in public, he’s also going to have to smile real pretty. Which, as it turns out, he’s an expert at.

One of their regular waiters drops the check on their table. Maya lets Shawn put down his card because she’s footing most of their vacation bill, since it was her idea.

“What about you, Lemon?”

“I thiiiiink,” she teases him with a smile, running her fingers against the back of his neck, “Probably all the skinny dipping we’re gonna do in the Adriatic. Or Mediterranean, either or. I’m not picky.”

She nips his jaw and reaches for her purse to stand. They have more to pack, so it’s probably time to be heading back. Maya blows Emilia a kiss and catches the one she sends in return. She makes a mental note to find her a nice gift while they’re abroad. 

“I don’t know about skinny dipping, Lu,” Shawn muses as he guides her out of the restaurant, aiming a friendly wave over his shoulder to Emilia as she bustles around the main dining room. “Those European seas get pretty chilly. And I’ve got precious cargo to protect.” 

She almost chokes on a breath.

“Did you just refer to your cock and balls as precious cargo? Not that I’m disagreeing, but Jesus, Shawn,” she laughs, squeezing his hand playfully. 

Shawn grins, the dimple in his chin popping out. “Bad joke? It was Geoff’s, first. Blame him.” 

He swings their joined hands between them, making sure to keep his pace at a leisurely stroll while they head down the boardwalk. Sure, there’s some packing to do, but Shawn’s not in a rush. The sun hasn’t even set. The breeze is warm, salty, perfect. Maybe Maya will go for an evening surf before they have to get down to business. 

The waves swell, roll in, crash, retreat. 

Maya finds herself slowing her pace to match his. Sometimes she catches herself power walking around this sleepy beach town like it’s Manhattan at rush hour and she has to remind herself to slow down. There’s no need for that anymore, and Maya is so grateful that he’s here to help keep her from sprinting through life.

Maya admires the way his curls rumple in the shore breeze. He squints adorably through the golden hour sun. She thinks about painting him this way and wonders if she could ever hope to capture the colors accurately.

Shawn turns so he’s walking backwards ahead of Maya, their hands still clasped together. “You wanna go for a surf? You didn’t get out there this morning.” 

She shrugs and plays with his fingers while they walk. “Maybe. Kind of just want to stay on land with you.”

He watches her bend and stretch his fingers as he continues his backwards trek. She studies his face, and he knows she’s got her artist eyes on from the contemplative intensity of her gaze. He stays focused on their linked fingers. A look like that from Maya is full of weight Shawn’s not sure he understands. 

He comes close, though, when he writes music about her. 

“Do we have to pack right away?” he asks eventually, swinging around to walk forward again when they near the house. “Let’s get stranded on the beach for a little. Watch the sunset. If no one’s around, I could make you come.” 

Shawn’s itching with the need to savor this last night in Avila, because it feels as though tomorrow will change them. They’ll be a different couple on the other end of this trip. He’s eager for it, to really begin his life with her, but he’s not in any rush. 

They have the time for another sunset. 

Maya’s eyebrows lift. “Well, I certainly think I could make time for that in our very busy, very official pre-travel schedule.”

Maybe they’ll be up late throwing clothes into a bag, dazed and smiley after spending another several hours in bed like they’re prone to do. Maya doesn’t mind. It’s always worth it with him.

They live far enough off the boardwalk to avoid most foot traffic. The house is quiet but warm -- they left a few lights on when they left for dinner, giving it a cozy glow. Maya looks up at it with pride. It was the best thing she’s ever done for herself, buying this house. And now it belongs to them both. It feels right.

The sun is starting to dip below the horizon when they arrive out on the beach in front of the house. She stops and drapes his arms around her shoulders like he’s a blanket, facing them toward the sunset. She looks down at their feet, hers between his, and traces her toe around the inside of his foot.

“Love you,” she murmurs softly. Maya’s not afraid to say it. She saves it for the most special occasions, and for some beautiful, cosmic reason, this feels like one. 

Her gentle words push his heart into his throat. His pulse is loud— drum drum drum— in his ears, and he hides his satisfied smirk in her neck. 

She makes him feel painfully twenty-one again with such simple words. 

But he’s not twenty-one anymore, and he’s pretty fucking glad for it. He was a huge idiot back then, even if he did fall in love with the right girl. He’s better at loving her now, with his newfound, middle-aged wisdom. 

“I know,” he growls into her neck when he manages to find his voice. He bites at her throat, then kisses his way to her ear. “Now stop bragging about it, Lemon, and watch the sunset with me.” 

-----------

Thank you for joining @achinglyshawn​ and I on such a special journey! We loved sharing this story with you and appreciate every message, like, or reblog. 💜 wishing you all safety and love.

@smallerinfinities​ @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn​ @infiniteshawn​ @mendesoft​ @singanddreamanyway​ @alone-in-madness​ @abigfatmess​ @shawnitsmutual​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @september-lace​ @sinplisticshawn​ @rollingxstone​ @randi-eve​ @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire​ @itrocksmysocks​ @parkerspicedlatte​ @simpledomain​ @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day​ @thecurlsofgod @magcon7280​ @bensbuttercup​ @shawnsmusical​ @paigeasourous​ @tell-me-when-ur-ready​ @softmendesss​ @searchingunderthestars​ @buggy-blogs​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @siennarossi​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul​ @sleepybesson​ @shawnsheaven @desire-to-live​ @jillian-nd​ @shawnwyr​ @curlsofshawn​ @graysonmendes​ @tnhmblive​ @meltingicequeen​

[looksforleaders]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 🔹️NIB Farkle 2019 Edition Dice Game Box Set.

[the-shadow-of-atlantis]

Truth in Blood (Part 4)

Summary: Not wanting to focus on what happened Annabella decides to keep herself busy.

Tagging: @lizartgurl @thespacebuns @melyaliz @coffee-randomness @speedypan @gobydana

A/N Special thanks to @thespacebuns and @coffee-randomness for helping me with this chapter

Read Earlier Parts Here

Sunlight poured into the room making Annabella groan as it hit her in the face. Rubbing her eyes she shifted in the bed turning her back from the direction the light was coming in from and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket. Her eyes slowly opened feeling heavy from crying, the numbness hadn’t gone away making her want to just lay in bed. It had been a long time since she felt like this, her face fell as she remembered the days the followed Jason’s funeral. Shaking her head she forced herself to get up.

Get your stuff organized first, she thought. Nodding to herself she got off the bed and grabbed her bag. There was one dresser in the room and Annabella organized her clothes, she had enough for three nights and wondered if she would be allowed to stay that long.

“Oh great.” Annabella muttered to herself as she dug through her bag.

Out of everything she could have forgotten how did she forget to pack her brush?? She looked up and caught her reflection in the mirror and saw her hair looking like a lion's mane. She glared at her self a bit before sighing well looks like she was just going to have to buy herself a new one. Along with a charger because apparently she forgot that too.

Great. She paused as she noticed something in her bag that she definitely did not pack, reaching in she grabbed the small wooden box that made her leave her home in the first place and glared at it. What the hell was this doing in here? Then she wondered if it was somehow like those type of magic items that you could never lose once it was bonded to you. Great that was going to be annoying.

Annabella felt her stomach growl and slightly jumped. How long had she been asleep? Better question, how long had it been since she ate? She tossed the box back in her bag and organized the last of her stuff then turned to walk out the door but noticed a small slip of paper on the ground.

Annabella,

There was a league emergency, I did not want to wake you. You are free to do what you wish, if you have to leave there is a spare key in a small drawer in the kitchen.

Kaldur

Annabella stared at the note for a bit feeling slightly jealous at his penmanship, she put it on top of the dresser and walked out. She looked around the small house on her way to the kitchen, she had only been here once which was during Kaldur housewarming party. It really hadn’t changed much, the pale blue walls were pretty bare, the living room had one couch and a recliner, a small coffee table, a small flat screen tv hung from the wall with a small media stand underneath it filled with little knick knacks that upon closer inspection Annabella realized they were the little stuff she would bring back from her trips.

She looked at the mantel over the fireplace and saw it had some picture frames, she smiled as she remembered some of them. A group picture of the team from their first year. A picture of Kaldur with his surface grandparents during Christmas wearing matching sweaters. Another group picture of Kaldur with his friends from Atlantis that had come to the beach of Happy Harbor one day, that water volleyball game had been very intense. One picture Annabella never realized he had was one of her helping the little sea turtles go back into the ocean Kaldur was standing next to her in the picture smiling in the direction of the ocean. She sighed as she thought how simple life had been just a few years ago, turning away she finally went into the kitchen.

The fridge was also a bit bare, a small carton of eggs, a couple jugs of water, some butter and bread. The sight was a bit sad. However when she checked the pantry Annabella almost cringed and the amount of canned food and fruits quickly checking the freezer she found it was also stacked with microwavable meals. Suddenly Annabella began to wonder just how long Kaldur tended to stay in his own house or better yet how often he visited it.

After checking to make sure the eggs and bread were good she made herself a small breakfast and inspected the furniture. There was just a small layer of dust. Taking a deep breath she looked around munching on her toast. The little Alfred in her head seemed to be screaming at her to help and Annabella had to admit she was tempted.

“Well… he did say I could do anything.” She mumbled to herself.

Nodding she scarfed down the rest of her food quickly washed the plate and went up to her assigned room to change. She did her best to comb her hair with her fingers and knotted it together to keep it out of her face. She found the spare house key and attached it to her car keys. She got into her car and drove off.

It had taken her moment to realize where she was people more than likely didn’t recognize her. So shopping was pretty fun, until the cart started getting full and she began wondering how much she was going to have to pay for it all. She only kept so much in cash because even though she could defend herself she also made it a point to not carry too much to draw attention. Biting her lip she decided to take a gamble on using one of her cards after all Kaldur wasn’t the only one from the team who lived in Happy Harbor she could possibly be staying with, she also hoped her father had the decency not to track her but that was a stretch. Making a mental note to take a page from Question and open up several accounts that couldn’t be linked to her she paid for the groceries and headed back to the house.

When she came back she was a bit glad that Kaldur had apparently still hadn’t come home yet. She was wondering how she was going to explain the giant haul of groceries and cleaning products. She had to make several trips from her car to the kitchen. Once everything was organized she got to work on cooking. She had all four stove tops occupied and had the TV blaring music as she bobbed her head mixing the food together. Soon the entire fridge was now stacked with containers of home cooked meals that Kaldur could easily heat. Good, now onto the cleaning.

Luckily the house was small, also like she noticed earlier the only thing the house really needed was dusting. She figured she was the first one to use the guest bathroom since the shower did look fairly clean still she figured it couldn’t hurt to disinfect it. The guest room she stayed in was easy since there was basically only two pieces of furniture it made her wonder how Kaldurs room looked like but she resisted the urge to go in. Besides she figured it would more than likely look like his old one from the cave, bedsheets so tight you could bounce quarters and drawers with his clothes color coordinated. When she moved into the living room she smiled as she cleaned the media center remembering the times she had gifted some of the small knick knacks.

Then a thought slowly dawned on her as she polished a small stone pyramid, she remembered some of these from his room in the cave, but if that was the case were these salvaged from the wreckage? No they couldn’t be they still looked like new, except for the dust, but then did that mean he take them with him when he went undercover? Or did he put them somewhere for safe keeping? She tried to remember if she ever went into his room after it was discovered he left to ‘join’ his father but no memory came to mind. Then another thought came to her, is that why she came all the way here to see him? Because he’s been through something similar? Being lied to about a dangerous parent. She shook her head trying not to focus on it too much on it.

“Just keep going.” She muttered to herself. “You’re almost done.”

“Well that was fun.” She mumbled when she finally finished and plopped herself on the sofa as she adjusted herself and frowned when she felt something poking her side.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her keys.

“What the?” She mumbled as she looked at the keychain.

A piece of it had come off and was exposing what seemed to be an end of a flash drive. Annabella sat up looking at it, she knew Question always kept this keychain on. She never realized it would have doubled as a flash drive then again he was full of surprises. Was this flash drive for her? If not what was on it? But then again her dad did say Vic wanted to leave the car to her. And she knew there was a laptop in there.

Getting up she went outside and rummaged through her car finally finding the hidden laptop. She went into her room and turned the laptop on. She looked over the laptop which was basically wiped clean of any files though it had some cool features, it reminded her of a smaller batcomputer possibly even better. She fidgeted with the flash drive finally caving and inserted it. She clicked on the little file when it popped up and saw that it was filled.

“Geez what the hell?” Annabella muttered as she scrolled through the list.

Well just click on the first one and see what happens, she thought as she clicked on it and a video popped up. She blinked when she saw Vics face staring at her, his real face, his brown eyes tired, his red hair thinning. Slowly she pressed play.

“Well like every cliche way videos like this start I’m going to go with if you’re watching this them I’m guessing the cancer has finally kicked my ass and its your birthday. You’re dad must’ve given you the car that’s good hope you’re still enjoying it, you always did like that car.” Vic smiled and Annabella stared at the video in shock.

“It must be your 17th birthday, which means you must’ve found out the truth about who you are. Trust me I’ve tried telling you many times but something seemed to keep hold me back, remember our deal no secrets between us. I figured your dad must’ve done something from making others tell you, so I gathered what I could on your mother, figured they would tell you about her but not everything. For now in this video I’ll tell you the basics, after that you can look through the files yourself.” Vic paused and coughed.

“Sorry about that, this shits getting worse. Anyway, your mother, I know you know she use to be an actress, that she stopped working after time and went dark till she showed up when you were 7 and tried to kidnap you. I’m guessing you know about your magic now and how it works. Well after you were born your mother tried her best to get her magic back. She joined cults made deals with some unpleasant people anything she could to get a small taste of her magic back. She managed to achieve her goal but it never seemed to last long. Eventually she began betraying those who helped her.” Victor paused and sighed as he rubbed his eyes.

“Your mother is dangerous Annabella, she’ll stop at nothing to get what she wants, and with her options being so limited I think you might be her next target when you discover your magic. You’ll need to prepare and as upset as you are you need to speak with your grandmother she can guide you, help you. I’m sorry I’m not there to help you myself I wish I could have told you all of this in person. No more secrets Annabella it's time for you to learn the truth, to learn everything, no matter how bad those things are.” Vic smiled sadly at the camera suddenly there was a knock and Annabella looked up confused till she realized it was coming from the laptop.

“Q you in here? Are you feeling okay for training.” Annabella’s voice came from the screen.

“Come in Shadow.” Vic called out and the screen went black.

Annabella blinked as she stared at the blank screen trying to process what her dead mentor left behind for her. Seriously what was up with all these hidden gifts being left behind by the dead??? She shook her head and closed the video the little arrow hovered over the next file and Annabella bit her lip nervously, then she clicked it.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent looking through all the files. So much stuff that her mother did, the horror, the betrayal, so much death and destruction. And for what? Just so she could use her magic again? There was a knock at the door and Annabella jumped.

“Annabella? Are you in here?” Kaldurs voice came through.

“Um yeah.” Annabella rubbed her eyes and closed the laptop. She got up and opened the door. “I was just checking my emails.”

“I am sorry I was gone for so long the emergency took much longer to handle than it should have. I was not sure if you have had dinner yet and was wondering if you’d like to join me.” Kaldur paused as he studied her and she slowly felt worry begin creeping off of him and wrapping around her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Annabella rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’ve been staring at the computer for a long time. I’ll um I’ll be down in a bit.”

Kaldur seemed uncertain but slowly nodded his head and walked away. Annabella closed the door and sighed her head swarmed with the information dump it just received. She rubbed her temples as she tried to calm herself. When she looked up she noticed her bag and frowned. She was pretty sure the box inside was mocking her, but then again, Vic did say she was going to need to talk to her grandmother again. Feeling her stomach growl she sighed. Later, she decided, first she was going to have food… and then explain to Kaldur why his fridge was suddenly full of Tupperware.

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[diningpageantry]

All That Matters

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909690/chapters/40386200

Chapter 15/16 of Love You All, Die For This

Word Count: 2331

Summary: In hopes to connect Oliver to his somewhat estranged family, Baz invites Daphne and his siblings over for lunch.

Tag: @fight-surrender

BAZ

Napkins, tablecloth, place settings… where’s the glasses? Oh god, oh fuck, where are the placement glasses?

“Simon!” I call, rushing into the kitchen area as he’s taking out our lovely porcelain teapot. “Where’s our glasses?”

Blinking, he stares up at me for a second. “I… In the china cabinet. Why? Didn’t you put some out already?”

“I put out the wine glasses, not the water glasses,” I whine, rushing over to the cabinet and throwing it open, eyes searching urgently. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…”

A warm hand rests against the bottom curve of my back, smoothing back the fabric of my quite uptight button down. It only takes a few seconds before I relax back, exhaling and focusing on the slow dragging of his palm. It’s grounding; resting all heavy and light at the same time. Comforting. It’s all I could have ever asked for in life.

“I’m sorry,” I exhale, eyes slowly falling shut. “It’s just… nerve wracking.”

“I know,” he whispers back as his fingers push up my spine, weaving between each dip. “It’s just your step mum and siblings. It isn’t like it’s the Prime Minister or something.”

My hand reaches for the glasses, starting to stack them in my hands. “They might as well be,” I mumble, shifting my weight before heading off into the dining room to set them up. With trembling hands, I settle them up nearly in line with the plates, trying to calm myself. It doesn’t quite work.

Simon stands in the doorway, shoulder leaned up against the frame as he smiles the saddest smile I’ve ever seen on him.

Each step he takes forward creaks against the newly done floorboards.

It’s such an odd housewarming; having your somewhat estranged family coming into your new house right off your old school’s campus to meet your somewhat newly adopted son is… a lot, to say the least. It’s a nice house now, and it’s quite pretty since it’s done up properly, but Crowley, is it driving me off the deep end.

“Baz, my love,” Simon coaxes, his hands reaching out and taking hold of mine, “just take a second away from all this. Remember what we used to do? Center in, focus, breathe.”

My eyes search his as I shakily inhale, gripping onto him as we keep each other’s gaze. With an encouraging smile and soothing rubs of his thumbs, Simon leads me in careful deep breaths.

“I love you,” I say after a minute or two. “I’m sorry. It just matters. A lot.”

“I know it does, love,” he interlocks our fingers, “but we’re in this together. We’ve faced an awful lot of shit, so how bad could this be?”

“A chimera worth.”

He laughs, which finally lets me exhale as I watch him smile. “Not quite a chimera worth.”

I try to open my mouth in protest, but he leans in and kisses me before I get to speak.

After pulling off, he grins and kisses my knuckles. “I need to finish lunch, if you ever want something to serve. Will you check on Ollie?”

My head nods before the rest of my body follows, lips pulling into a tight line as I swallow back my anxieties. I take a fast-footed walk to the playroom, knocking lightly before pushing it open. On the floor, laying out with a few books, sits Oliver. He scans over pages, flipping through after reading them quickly and moving on. There’s music playing from the small stereo; one of the classical playlists I’d put together (no son of mine won’t have class).

His head lifts up, smiling a little at me before waving me over. “Mummies,” he says softly, pointing at his book. “Mummies.”

Kneeling down, I ruffle his hair and smile. “You’re right, darling, they are mummies.” I lean in, whispering, “They used to use magick in mage's tombs to protect from robbers. There was a family seal in some caskets belonging to powerful families, like ours.”

There's a bright sparkle in his eyes as he grins up at me. “Can we see them?”

Something catches in my throat, choking me up and nearly bringing me to tears as I let myself smile. “Of course we can, little puff. We can absolutely see the family over there.” My head bows, kissing his hair. “But now, we have to get ready to see the family coming here, alright? Ready to see grandnan?”

He nods quickly and pops up onto his feet, taking hold of my hand and tugging me out of the room. “Daddy says nice clothes.”

My heart swells as I nod, pulling myself back up to my feet before following his lead to his bedroom, to where he points to his closet. Compliantly, I pick out a proper outfit and help him dress (although, he does most of it; stubborn five year old, this one). Once he’s awfully proud of how he looks, he gives me a confirmation nod before I pick him up and carry him to the dining room.

“There he is, the shining star,” Simon jokes, popping out of the kitchen. “Will you help me finish pulling the hand pies out of the oven, love.”

“I’ll do it!” Oliver volunteers, but Simon just rolls his eyes, hands him a biscuit, and sends him off (ever his father’s son, needing a food bribe to go away).

As I’m sliding the baking tray off the rack, I hear my husband’s voice beside me. “So when are we expecting the Grimm brigade?”

“Quarter to noon,” I say, carefully setting the hot tray down. “How long’ve we got?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Well, fuck,” I mumble, nose turning up as I try to exhale.

Simon drops his head against my shoulder and curls a hand around my bicep as his wings spread like a blanket on top of us. “You’re such a fucking downer,” he whispers teasingly. “Lighten up, angst god.”

“Fuck off, you idiotic twat,” I whisper endearingly back, closing my eyes as my head rests on top of his. He hums softly in contentment, hands finding mine and holding them securely as the ends of his curls tickle my face.

It isn't long before there’s a heavy, two hit knock at the door, causing me to peel myself back from the comforting embrace. Before I can say a word, Snow rocks onto the balls of his feet to give me a soft kiss of encouragement. The twinkle in his eyes and the spread of his smile makes me feel like I could own the world.

The door swings open to Daphne, Mordelia, the twins, and Benjamin, waiting with intrigue and welcome baskets. Immediately, Benjamin latches to my legs in a hug before saying a quick hello, which is followed by a chorus of them. I hug them each, waving them inside and politely taking the gifts.

“Oh this is awfully lovely,” Daphne says, an air of sophistication in her voice that I've heard myself distance from over the years. It’s somewhat grounding to hear, like life’s reminder that some things never change.

“We just moved in a month ago.” I take their light coats, hanging them in the side closet. “Since I don't start teaching until fall, we're just spending time getting settled through the rest of spring. If the children want, they can go see the goats later.”

“Is it clean--”

“As clean as can be,” I say softly, smiling.

Her head nods tightly, hands resting together in a delicate and poised fashion. “So long as it's safe.” Scanning the room, she seems to trail in thought before bringing it back. “Where's Oliver?”

“Most likely in the playroom; excuse me. Perhaps Simon will show you to the dining room..?”

As if on command, he pops into the room with a smile. “Follow me,” he nods, waving them off to the table. I find Oliver back to his books and lift him into my arms, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“There's other kids here, okay, my dear? They're nice.”

He glances around the room, peering over my shoulder as he speaks. “Grandnan?”

“Grandnan's in there too. Are you ready?”

He nods his head surely, pulling at the sleeves of his jumper before holding onto my shirt.

Walking down the hall and stepping into the room feels like a gamble. I don't doubt he'll be loved by her, but Crowley, what if not enough? He doesn't really have any biological grandparents who'll be here for him, and I'd rather not have him living so separated from any sort of family. Of course, he's met Dev and Niall before and loves Fiona, but that’s the only family he knows of. Simply put, he deserves a normal fucking life. Not that he'll ever get a Normal life, but a typical, full-familied life.

The moment we step in, my worries melt away. Daphne grins and offers out her arms to him, cooing motherly in greeting as she takes his hands and shakes them. Even through lunch, she insists on him sitting next to her. To her credit, she tries countlessly to make conversation, but, Ollie being Ollie, gives his typical word or few before going back to eating. She sends me a look or two of somewhat concern, but I shrug in response. I'd warned her of his Simon-like nonverbal tendencies, but I suppose she anticipated a little more communication anyway.

He does seem to warm up to her, though, in his own way. As Simon offers to show the group the goats, Oliver gives Daphne a hug before running off to the new barn.

She and I stay back, pouring each other in a brief silent exchange of glances. “So…” I begin.

“He’s quite quiet,” she says softly, cautious to not offend, “but he’s awfully sweet.”

With a loose smile, I nod my head and take a glance at his finished plate. “He's a brilliant listener, just not the best talker. He is a doll, though. Excited every time he gets something new, as if he didn't expect to ever get anything at all. Makes my chest tug a little.” Lifting the teacup to my lips, I hesitate to continue my thought. I do anyway. “I simply wished he could interact with more people. Simon and I don't have a lot of friends together, besides each other and Mitali Bunce's daughter, so it's hard to get Oliver used to new people when we barely have anyone we see ourselves.”

We're silent for a few beats, my attention locked to my porcelain cup as it tips towards my mouth and lowers back to the plate.

I find Daphne's eyes searching mine; studying my features in hopes to pull out an answer. “You know, your father doesn't hate who you are. He just… doesn't like who you married. He takes it out on class without thought to compassion.”

“He never quite put thought to compassion,” I bite, voice steadily quiet. Daphne just looks apologetic.

“He does sometimes, it's just difficult to find those moments.”

With pursed lips and a fearful gaze, I meet her eyes. “I don’t mean to hate him for how he is, I’m just upset with how he chooses not to change it.”

She gives me a motherly smile, reaching out to settle a hand on top of mine. “He's the product of his upbringing, and the upbringing before that, and the upbringing before that. Sometimes it’s hard to break what we train ourselves for, isn't that true?” Her fingertip runs along my wedding band. “Everyone has a crack in their mask. It’s just taking longer for his to chip away.”

I exhale, lowering my gaze down to the tablecloth and letting us sit in silence as I mull it over. I won't expect anything, of course, but it's somewhat comforting to know that someone's on my side. Our side; my family's side.

“Thank you for coming to lunch,” I say at last, letting her have a smile. “It means a lot for him to have this.”

“Of course,” she waves, “don’t be such a stranger, and we won't be either. Has Mordelia visited before today? I know classes are over in a week, but you're still so close...”

“No, but I know how classes go. She doesn't want to spend time with a five year old and two adults.”

Daphne wrinkles her nose to that. “I'll see if I can talk her into some afternoon teas. She is a young teen, after all.”

“That she is,” I smile, exhaling slowly before standing. “I'm going to tidy up, if you don't mind. Feel free to go out back and check on the kids.”

She does so, leaving me a short bit of time to think (and think, and think) about what was said.

They don't stay for too much longer, leading to everyone exchanging hugs. To my delight, it seems like Oliver gets along with Benjamin quite well.

Their departure is sweet, a waving send off before Oliver yawns and proclaims that his nap time is now. Simon graciously volunteers to put him off, joining me back in the living room once he’s done.

“So… what was the talk about?”

I settle back onto the couch, sinking into the fibers as I get myself relax. “My father. Oliver. Nothing much else.” His head falls to my shoulder, settling there as his hand drops to my thigh and traces shapes onto my skin.

“Not bad talking, right?”

“Not at all,” I murmur, turning my head to settle on his. ”I'm not entirely sure my father will ever truly come around, not that it really matters.”

Our palms settle together, light hitting my wedding band as his fingers thread through mine. He doesn’t push me to say anything, just settles his head against my shoulder and lets me finish my thoughts on my own time.

“We have Daphne, though. And Bunce, and Fiona. And he’s happy, so I think that’s all that does truly matter, after all.”

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

The Feast of the Seven Fishes-New MC Fanfic

This is just something I threw together for Christmas in my continuing effort to show how Sharon and Andy spent their first year of marriage together. I got the inspiration from Tony who talked about this Sicilian tradition in an interview and how he hoped to go back to his roots and host one in the future. Can totally see Andy embracing the whole family this way.

You can read here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13157919/1/The-Feast-of-the-Seven-Fishes or here https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160020 or here:

Sharon gazed up at the 15 foot Douglas fir placed in the corner of their living room. It was so tall that her 6 foot 1-inch husband had struggled to get the angel straight, even on a ladder. It had been a long time since she’d had a live tree, let alone one this big. A high ceiling was one of the many attributes of their new home.  The tree was beautiful, filled with ornaments from their pasts and new ones they had purchased together—including the special stained glass shamrock ornament reading “Ireland 2018” that they had purchased on their honeymoon in Ireland.

Last year at this time, she was still recovering from the mild bout of cardiomyopathy that had thankfully turned out to be more of an annoyance than anything else. She’d had to take some time off to allow the virus to run its course and they’d decided to put off their search for a new home until she was feeling stronger. Now, they had this beautiful Spanish Revival, with its high exposed wood beam ceilings, wrought iron chandeliers and the extra spare rooms that would house some of the family members who would be descending on their home tonight. Boughs of holly were draped along the stone fireplace mantle where their stockings were lined up in a row. Live wreaths hung on the walls, filling the air with the scent of balsam pine. Gorgeous full poinsettias in red and white graced the coffee table, the end tables and the top of Sharon’s piano—her housewarming gift from Andy. A strategic sprig of mistletoe dangled in the archway leading from the hall into the living room, a spot where Andy caught her at every opportunity.

She could hear him now in the kitchen, just through another graceful archway off the living room. He was in his glory, preparing for the “Feast of the Seven Fishes” a seven-course traditional Sicilian Christmas Eve meal. It was something he remembered fondly from his childhood and for as long as she had known him; he had talked about wanting to do this for their family. However, until they bought this new larger home, it hadn’t been feasible. The condo wasn’t large enough for both their extended families. This house was.

She made her way into the kitchen, watching Andy slapping together crab and salmon cakes while humming along to “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” with Andy Williams. She ran her hand along his shoulders as she made her way to the stove, earning that pure Andy smile that always made her feel like she was the best thing in his world. She lifted the cover on the vat of bubbling New England clam chowder, stuck a spoon in, and took a taste. The chowder was her contribution, her grandmother’s recipe that always transported her back to summers on Nantucket.

Seven dishes was a lot of food so they were doing as much prep work as possible so all they would have to do tonight was heat everything up. They would start with bacon wrapped scallops along with traditional antipasto for hors-d'oeuvres, and then they would move into the meal. The chowder, followed by the crab and salmon cake appetizers, then a coconut shrimp salad with orange marmalade sauce, lobster rolls made with fresh Maine lobster purchased from ‘Cape Seafood and Provisions’ in West Hollywood, garlicky shrimp scampi, and baked flounder au gratin made with flounder  that Andy and Ricky caught on a fishing trip out to Catalina. Ricky and his girlfriend Tess had flown in a couple days ago and would be staying with them in one of the guest rooms. Emily was due to arrive any minute with her O’Dwyer grandparents, and Andy’s mother and his sisters Antonella, Maura, Peggy, and Gina, along with Peggy and Gina’s husbands and Gina’s daughter Sophia had settled in at a local B&B run by a friend of Sharon’s from her book club. Sharon’s sister Christine, her brother in law Ed and her nieces Jillian and Bridget were also staying at the B&B.

**********

It was Christmas Eve, the food was prepared and Sharon’s sense of occasion had the house looking like something out of a magazine spread. A fire burned in the hearth, white lights twinkled on the large Christmas tree and ran along the built-in bookshelves that flanked the fireplace. Christmas music played softly on the Bose surround sound speakers that Ricky had helped them set up with they’d first moved in. The families mingled, some carrying wine glasses, others cut glass miniature mugs of eggnog doctored up with a little vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and nutmeg. A bottle of spiced rum sat next to the punch bowl for those who wanted a little extra zip in their nog.

Andy stood leaning against the fireplace sipping his non-spiked eggnog, listening to Celine Dion sing about another year having gone by. He had been talking with Nicole and Dean but as they moved on to get some cheese and crackers for the boys he took a moment to survey the room with pleasure. All the O’Dwyers, Raydors, and Flynn’s were under one roof. His roof. Their roof. His eyes fell on Sharon across the room near the piano. She was in a conversation with her mother, his mother, and his sister Antonella. She had changed into a red cashmere sweater dress that gently skimmed over her curves along with knee-high black suede boots. Sexy and elegant. That was his wife. As if she felt his gaze on her, she turned and caught his eyes, flashing him a broad beaming smile that lit her whole face and made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. When Sharon smiled at him like that, he felt like he could walk on water.

Later that night when they returned from midnight mass at St. Joseph’s and she had changed into a long white silk nightgown, he into pajama bottoms and t-shirt, he slid his iPod into the dock and clicked on one of her favorites, Michael Buble.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand. She took it and stepped into his arms, resting her head on his broad chest, swaying gently to “I’ll be Home for Christmas” thinking that Buble could even make that holiday favorite sound sexy.

“We are home, aren’t we?” she said, nuzzling into his chest. God how she loved this house near the sea.

“We are,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek against her soft fragrant hair. “But it’s more than this house. It’s you, Sharon. You’re my home. You always have been.”

She pulled back, hearing the catch in his voice. When she saw the sheen of tears displayed in his dark eyes by the moonlight shining through the French doors, she cupped a hand over his cheek. She knew he was thinking about last year at this time. “And you’re my home. As long as we’re together nothing else matters.”

“No, it doesn’t. And as far as Christmas goes, I’ve already been given the best gift ever. I‘ll never have to ask for anything else.”

She cocked her head with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“You. Here with me, healthy and well. When you were sick last year, I made a few deals with God. One of those was that I’d never ask for anything else as long as he made you well again. He kept up His end of the bargain and there’s nothing else I want or need that can ever compare to having you by my side. Forever.

Sharon felt the tear slide down her cheek and then his thumb wiping it away. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have a man like you in my life?”

“Me? I dunno. Provenza said I was the booby prize.”

Sharon gave a surprised little snort laugh. No one could make her laugh through her tears like Andy. “You’re not the booby prize,” she said. “You’re the blue ribbon all the way.  

******

Christmas morning brought more good news for the family when Dean and Nicole showed up with Tyler and Scottie who were wearing reindeer t-shirts that read “Oh Deer, I’m going to be a big brother” and the announcement that she was due in June. The entire family erupted with excitement, but none more so than Andy and Sharon who were over the moon at the idea of another grandchild.

Once the gifts were unwrapped, the paper balled up in boxes to be sent to recycling, everyone moved into the dining room for a large brunch. Casseroles, ham and cheese, sausage and hash browns, and French toast. Quiche, both veggie and bacon and Gruyere, and a variety of Danish’s, cinnamon rolls, croissants, muffins, coffee cake, and bagels were spread out on the table. It was sunny and in the mid-’60s so Sharon left the French doors open to the patio. Some ate outside under the pergola on the large farmer’s table or perched on the comfortable chairs Andy had placed in a cozy circle around the outdoor Chiminea, while others ate inside in the dining room or on the island bar in the kitchen.  

While they ate Ricky and Tess announced that they were moving in together and would be looking for a condo in San Diego or its surroundings. Tess had been working on her Master's degree in Psychology with a focus on refugee mental health and human rights at Berkeley and had interned with different programs helping refugee children and their families in the Bay area. Now with her Master’s completed, she had been offered a job working with traumatized children experiencing posttraumatic stress having come from refugee situations, many who had been tortured, abused or traumatized by watching family members killed in front of them. She would be working with the children utilizing Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques. It was an amazing opportunity and she had to take it, but it meant moving over 7 hours away from Ricky and that was something they both deemed unacceptable. This time it was Ricky who would make the sacrifice. He was lucky. With his computer savvy he could pretty much find a job anywhere in the world, and in many cases, name his price. So, moving had not been a difficult decision. In fact, he informed them that he already had a few interviews lined up in cybersecurity.

Sharon was thrilled that her son was in a serious relationship with a young woman she really liked and that Ricky had been willing to make sacrifices to make the relationship work. Even better, he was now going to be an easily drivable distance away. Less than two hours! He and Andy had already been talking about fishing trips and Dodger games.

A little later while everyone was relaxing inside and they were burning cardboard in the Chiminea, Andy slipped an arm around Sharon‘s waist. “Looks like 2019 is going to be another great year for us.”

“Yes, it does.” She rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “A new baby, Ricky getting serious with Tess and moving closer to home and our first full year in our new house.”

Andy looked inside through the French doors, his eyes falling on Emily who was laughing with his sister Gina. “Now if we can just get our girl closer to home, life would be perfect.”

Our girl. God how she loved him.

[armltagehux]

twelve days of reyuxmas - day six: traditions

Details about these fics and how I plan to post them to ao3 later can be found here.

This is part of the Reyux Great British Bake-Off AU fic, which you can read here (main fic) and here (day 1 of Reyuxmas fic). This fic is set roughly 5-6 years in the future from the day 1 fic.

Warnings: kid fic, mentions of pregnancy, family fluff

Large, fluffy snowflakes floated lazily through the air, piling gently upon everything still and settled outside. The sun had already set, nothing but the dim street lights of their sleepy neighborhood to show the snowflakes where to go. Not a car was out on the street, not a pedestrian out on the sidewalk — everyone was preparing for the holiday.

Inside their modestly-sized home, Rey and Hux prepared for their evening, the warm lights from the Christmas tree and fireplace coating the lounge in a golden glow. Years prior, it would have made them feel calm. No anticipation, no stress. But as it was, they now had children, and with children came a hubbub and buzz during the holidays that no amount of serenity outdoors could quell.

“Mummy! Mummy can I open this one?”

Excitedly, a five year old ran into the kitchen, clutching a massive, wrapped gift to her chest. It was nearly as tall as she was. Her curly auburn hair fell in her eyes, regardless of how many times Rey tried to pin it back. She was eager and excited for Christmas, as most five year olds were.

Before Rey could so much as dry her hands on the towel by the sink, Hux swooped in from where he’d been sitting with the five year old’s younger sister on the sofa. With a toddler on his hip, Hux expertly plucked the gift from his daughter. “Charlotte, you know perfectly well that mum and dad get to choose your Christmas Eve gift,” he said.

Charlotte frowned so dramatically it was almost cartoonish. Her entire body slumped as she did. “But it’s always pyjamas,” she whined.

“Hush, Lottie,” Rey admonished as she crossed the kitchen to her. “You always love wearing your new pyjamas! It’s our family tradition.”

“You and daddy don’t get pajamas,” Charlotte argued, crossing her arms at her chest.

“Charlotte,” Hux warned. She knew already that she was in trouble with him — her father only used her full name if she was being naughty.

On his hip, their second daughter Phoebe rubbed sleepily at her eyes. She didn’t whine, not yet, but both Rey and Hux knew that she was close. Gently, he pushed bright red wisps of hair out of her face and said, “Just a few more minutes, Phoebes. We’re almost ready for bed.”

“Come,” Rey said, leading Lottie to the tree. “Can you help me find Phoebe’s box?”

The pyjamas were, of course, a tradition for the children. Each year, they’d get a bright, festive  new pair with some sort of Christmas print on them, and they could open them Christmas Eve to wear to bed that night. Rey started the tradition without really trying — she’d done it for Lottie’s first Christmas purely because Lottie was only two months old, and every pair of pyjamas that small were very cute. From there, it snowballed into one of their first family traditions.

Now, to make it easier for their daughters to know which was their Christmas Eve gift, Rey wrapped the pyjamas in bright, sparkly silver wrapping paper. Lottie found them easily, but before they could open them, Rey asked, “Which is yours and which is Phoebe’s?”

Lottie was learning her letters and words, so it was good practice for her. As she sounded out the names on the gifts with her mother, Hux had a seat in the recliner, Phoebe on his lap. She was the spitting image of him, aside from Rey’s warm brown eyes. She had a calm, quiet demeanor about her, though seemed exasperated by her older sister most of the time. Even at age two, Phoebe seemed to hold the same disdain for humans that her father did, regardless of Rey’s efforts to the contrary.

After a few moments, Lottie was walking across the room to place a box in Phoebe’s lap. She set it down rather roughly, causing Phoebe to whimper ever so slightly. “Be gentle,” Hux reminded Lottie.

Already halfway to her own gift, Lottie likely hadn’t heard him, so Hux turned his attention instead to the child in his lap. Even after five years, he couldn’t fully understand what had compelled him to start a family. It probably had something to do with Rey’s bright smile, or perhaps with the shared hope they both had of building up a group of people who could be their family where they no longer had parents or grandparents.

Phoebe yawned, her whole face scrunching up with it, and she nestled in a little closer to her father’s chest. Rey still knelt with Lottie by the tree as Lottie eagerly ripped into the gift.

Though he tried, Hux couldn’t manage to coax Phoebe into doing more than just tugging at the wrappings a little bit. In her defense, it had been a very long day. They’d spent it with Ben, one of the other contestants on Bake-Off all those years ago. He, too, had no siblings or cousins, and after the initial competition wore off, he became one of Hux’s close friends.

Ben was recently married to a woman named Bazine — a beautiful, raven-haired surgeon — and they’d had a housewarming Christmas Eve party earlier that day. They had a dog, a big scruffy thing from Ben’s teen years named Chewie, and Phoebe had spent the better part of her day chasing Chewie around the house.

Now, she was too tired to even bother opening a gift, so Hux gently slid his finger beneath the seam, lifting the tape neatly to reveal a simple white box. Phoebe pointed at it, chewing on her other hand, and Hux took it to mean she’d like the box opened.

“What do you think it’ll be?” he asked her, trying to keep her engaged in the moment.

“Jam,” she mumbled as she teethed and drooled on her fingers.

“Jam? Silly Phoebes, jam is in the kitchen, remember?”

“No!” Phoebe said, dragging out the vowel sound and looking up at her father in combination annoyance and amusement. “Jam. Jam!” She pointed to Lottie, who had already begun changing into her pajamas, right there in front of the tree and the open floor-to-ceiling window of their lounge.

“Oh, pyjamas,” Hux pretended to realize.

“Jam!” Phoebe echoed again.

Slowly, he lifted the lid off the box. Apparently, after being silly with her, Phoebe was now awake enough to try to see what was inside for herself, rather than making her father do it. She lifted the pyjamas haphazardly from the box and held them up to Hux, showing them off. He already knew what she was getting, of course, but indulged her anyway.

“How pretty,” he said, taking them in one hand. “They’re for tonight, would you like to put them on?”

Phoebe nodded, and then rubbed at her eyes again. She was hardly going to make it another ten minutes before passing out, of that he was sure.

Gently, Hux took her in his arms and carried her to the sofa, laying her down so he could help her change into them. Truth be told, he did most of the work, changing her as if she were a baby. He didn’t often indulge his children and let them act younger than they were — they were clever, and could learn how to do these things on their own — but it was Christmas Eve and she’d had a long day. Besides, she had her mother’s eyes, the ones to which he found it very difficult to say no.

Hux looked up across the room at Rey, who was doing her very best to keep Lottie from getting too energetic as they put out cookies for Father Christmas. It was endearing, how eager and excited Lottie was to do this. Meanwhile, Hux had Phoebe in his arms as she draped over him, half-asleep.

Rey smiled at Hux, exhausted, as she helped Lottie carry cookies to the coffee table and leave out the letter she’d written to Father Christmas earlier that day. Once that job was finished, Lottie dutifully listened as Rey told her that now it was time to go to bed, or Father Christmas would never arrive.

As Rey worked hard to get Lottie calmed down enough that she’d sleep, Hux took the liberty of preparing Phoebe for bed. He changed her diaper and found her pacifier for her, and had barely rested her on the soft mattress of her crib before he sniffly snores could be heard across the room. Gently, he patted a wisp of her red hair out of her face before leaving the room.

Out in the hallway, he nearly ran head first into Rey, who looked exhausted but content. She offered a sleepy smile, and Hux responded in kind.

Though children were an unexpected adventure of this life he’d started with Rey, and he was exhausted to his bones more often than not, he wouldn’t change a thing. And at the end of the day, he and Rey could still share a look and know exactly what was on the other’s mind.

But he couldn’t help noticing that she seemed just a bit more exhausted than usual, and he hadn’t the foggiest idea why.

They had gifts from Father Christmas to put out by the tree, though, so asking about it now would just exhaust her more. Instead, Hux carried the bulk of the gifts and helped Rey in silence as they secretly put out the gifts. Unlike in years past, Hux had to be the one to eat the cookies to Father Christmas — Rey said she didn’t have much of an appetite — so he appeased her and did exactly that.

The house was still and calm, the girls fast asleep in their rooms, the lounge painted in the warm, gentle glow of the fairy lights on the tree.