#I have had it up to Here. And I'm DONE being nice about it.

[thezombieprostitute]

Dr. Studmuffin

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: new years kiss with a stranger

Warnings: Drugs used in a medical setting, Emergency room setting, Ex-boyfriend angst, Physical injuries. Please let me know if I missed any.

You're in tears, and not just from the pain. This was supposed to be your comeback. Your personal revolution. New Year's was a time for renewal and remaking yourself. You were going to prove to everyone, especially Bryce, that you didn't need him. That you could stand proud on your own two feet.

You'd splurged on the clothes, finding ones that not only fit you like a second skin, but that made all your best features pop. You got your hair done by a professional, even adding some highlights that would match the dress and your makeup choices. Every time you looked in the mirror you knew you were killing it! This was going to be your night. Your year!

And then you tripped on your too-high heels and likely broke your ankle.

It took everyone at the party several minutes to stop laughing. You're certain Bryce is still laughing about it. No one wanted to give you a lift to the emergency room so you had to call yourself an ambulance. Thankfully the paramedics were nice enough. Especially after the pain meds kicked in and you went from uncontrollably sad to uncontrollably sad and loopy.

You hated being loopy. You just couldn't stop talking and you inevitably said too much. Doesn't matter you primarily apologized for things that weren't your fault and made it rain compliments, you still talked nonstop and would eventually be called annoying. Thankfully the redheaded nurse taking care of you didn't seem to mind every time you repeated how pretty you thought she was. She actually was pretty good at assuaging the worst of your fears.

And then he showed up.

The first time you laid eyes on the ER doctor you blurted out, "well hello, Dr. Studmuffin!" You slapped your hands over your mouth, face burning with embarrassment. Apparently he felt it too with how pink his cheeks got.

"I see Natasha wasn't exaggerating," he chuckles as he rubs on some hand sanitizer.

"I am so sorry, doctor! I know that was very disrespectful. I mean, it's not disrespectful to call you handsome, because you really are. But it's wrong time, wrong place, right? Plus, you're a doctor! You've gotta be super smart for that! So reducing you to Dr. Studmuffin just feels so inadequate. I'm---"

He raises a hand to stop you from talking. His cheeks are still blushing but his smile is, thankfully, gentle instead of condescending or egotistical. He puts on some gloves and walks to your heavily bruised ankle. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I tripped on my shoes," you explain. Tears start to form as the embarrassing memory comes back. "I tripped in front of everyone and they just laughed and didn't try to help me and I was just trying to be better! Trying to improve myself and stand on my own without my ex and then I tripped and fell, right in front of him!"

The doctor grabs some of the tissues from the table nearby and gently wipes the tears from your face.

"The notes from the paramedics say that you had to call them yourself? No one tried to help?"

You nod, a fresh flow of tears starting. "It was supposed to be my night to remake myself. My night to be...to be not me. To be bold, daring, and kiss a stranger at midnight. But instead, here I am with...Can you please tell me your name so I might stop calling you Dr. Studmuffin?"

"I'm Dr. Rogers, but you can call me Steve."

"Thank you, Steve."

"I'm gonna examine your ankle now. I need you to tell me if, when something hurts, okay?" You nod your understanding.

After several squeaks and hisses in pain with explanations as to the type of pain he tells you it's likely a minor fracture but he's going to have to get some x-rays to confirm that.

You sigh, "I was supposed to be drinking champagne and, instead, I'll greet the new year with a dose of radiation." The tears start forming again. "Maybe they were right about how much of a loser I am."

Steve's jaw clenches and he gently lifts your chin, wiping away the tears with another tissue. "Don't do that. Don't let the bullies win. If you do that, they just get worse." He sees the confusion on your face and continues, "I don't like bullies. I got bullied pretty much my whole life."

"Who'd bully a Studmuffin like you?" you blurt.

He chuckles. "I wasn't always built like this. Used to be super scrawny."

"Aww! I bet you were so cute!"

That alone would make his cheeks burn but then Natasha walks in, "Dr. Studmuffin, you're needed in room 32." He gives her a glare but she just smiles back. He sighs, knowing he's never going to hear the end of it.

"Okay, she needs some x-rays and can you make sure Mace is her Radiologist? He'll probably have the most patience for her loopy state."

"Oh, yes, please let me have someone patient!" you exclaim. "I cannot be trusted not to annoy someone right now!"

Natasha smiles at you, "don't worry. I'll make sure you're in good hands."

After Steve catches a few moments to breathe, he looks around to see if you're back from getting your ankle x-ray. He's disappointed to see you're not back yet.

"Don't worry, Dr. Studmuffin," Nat teases. "She'll be back soon enough."

Steve's face goes pink. "I just wanted to do a follow up is all."

"You know you can't lie to me," she smiles. "She's someone who was trying to pull herself together, indicating personal strength. She cooed when you told her you were a scrawny kid, indicating a lack of shallowness on her part. And, I know you saw her chart. She's a chemist, so she's likely highly intelligent. She's exactly your kind of girl."

"She doesn't actually find me attractive," Steve counters. "It's just a bit of Nightingale Syndrome."

Nat laughs uncontrollably for a minute. "Steve, that's when the medical caretaker has a thing for the patient. Not the other way around."

Steve's face goes completely red as he realizes his slip up.

"I'll make sure you're on break around midnight so you can give the lovely lady that kiss with a stranger she was looking for," Nat winks before heading off to another patient.

Your back in your room, wallowing in misery as you look at the time. So close to midnight. You know your "friends" are having a blast. Likely still laughing about you. And here you are, alone and miserable.

Dr. Studmuffin, Steve, you internally correct yourself, comes in.

As he rubs his hands with sanitizer he says, "good news. While it is a partial fracture in the bone, your tendons and ligaments are unharmed. That'll make the healing process a lot easier on you." You nod glumly and he checks his watch. "I'm actually going on break here in a little bit, just in time for midnight. I...I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to greet the New Year with me?"

Your eyes widen in shock. "You...you want me...you want to kiss me for New Year's?"

"Only if you'd like that," he's quick to assure. "Stick it to those bullies, get a kiss with a stranger, and all that?"

"Yes, please!"

He checks his watch again, "and with that, I'm on my break." He turns on the TV. It's muted but you can still see the countdown.

When the clock hits zero, he leans in for a kiss. Still loopy from the pain meds you wrap your arms around his head and pull him in for a deep kiss, catching him off guard, but making him smile.

Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad year for either of you.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

What is this feeling? p.3

Heyy guys, here's part 3, if you've missed part 2 here it is.

I'm sorry for not posting yesterday, but this month I'll be pretty inactive since I have to study for my exams :(

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

"YN, you're good, but good isn’t enough."

Max’s words echoed in your ears as you sat across from him in the Red Bull hospitality suite. His sharp blue eyes studied you, a mix of determination and mischief glinting behind them.

"Okay, ouch," you muttered, crossing your arms defensively. "I’m working on it."

"You don’t just ‘work’ on being a winner," he said, leaning forward. "You have to become one. And lucky for you, I’ve decided to make you my new project."

"Your project?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," he said, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I’m going to teach you everything I know. Strategy, focus, confidence—everything that makes a champion. By the time I’m done with you, you won’t just be good. You’ll be great."

You hesitated, unsure whether to feel flattered or insulted. "And what if I don’t want to be your ‘project’?"

"You don’t really have a choice," Max replied, leaning back and crossing his arms with a cocky smirk. "Besides, I’m very nice for doing this. You should thank me."

"Wow," you said, rolling your eyes but unable to suppress a small laugh. "How generous of you."

"Exactly," he said, his smirk widening.

Over the following weeks, Max threw himself into his self-appointed role as your mentor. It started with small things: tips on cornering, feedback on your race starts, pointers about tire management. He’d pull up telemetry data, going over it in detail, explaining every nuance of what made him fast.

"You’re not braking late enough into Turn 1," he’d say, tracing a section of data with his finger. "And your exit speed here? Too slow. You’re leaving time on the table."

"You’re insufferable, you know that?" you shot back one day, though secretly you appreciated how much he cared.

"I’m efficient," he corrected with a smug grin.

But it wasn’t all technical. Max started nudging you out of your comfort zone in other ways, too.

"You need to stop eating lunch alone," he told you one afternoon, stealing a fry from your plate.

"I like eating alone," you argued, snatching the fry back.

"No, you think you do," he said. "But winners know how to command a room. You should join us. Be part of the team."

Reluctantly, you let him drag you into more social settings, and while you’d never admit it to him, you began to enjoy it.

Somewhere along the way, things shifted.

It wasn’t just the racing tips or the forced social interactions. It was the way Max would wait for you after sessions, leaning against the wall with an easy smile. It was the way he’d cheer you up after a bad qualifying run, cracking jokes until you couldn’t help but laugh. It was the way his confidence in you began to chip away at your own doubts.

"You’re getting better," he said one evening after a long day of practice. "I can see it."

"Thanks to you, I guess," you teased, nudging him lightly.

"Of course, thanks to me," he said, but there was a softness in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

By the time race day rolled around, you felt different. Lighter, more confident. Max’s faith in you had become your own, and as you lined up on the grid, you could see him watching you from the pit wall, arms crossed, a small smile playing on his lips.

The race was intense. Lap after lap, you pushed yourself harder than ever, channeling everything Max had taught you. The car felt like an extension of yourself, and when you crossed the finish line, the world seemed to erupt around you.

You’d done it. You’d won.

Climbing out of the car, you barely had time to process the cheers before someone was rushing toward you.

Max.

He reached you in seconds, pulling you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you, and for a moment, the rest of the world fell away.

"I knew you could do it," he said, his voice low and filled with pride.

"Thanks to you," you whispered, smiling against his shoulder.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, his usual cockiness replaced by something warmer, more genuine.

"You were incredible," he said.

"So, does this mean I’m officially not your project anymore?" you teased, though your voice wavered slightly, the moment feeling too big for jokes.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "You were never a project to me," he said. "Not really."

Before you could respond, the crowd surged around you—drivers, engineers, reporters. Max stepped back, giving you space, but his eyes never left yours.

Later, as the celebrations wound down and the paddock quieted, you found him leaning against the Red Bull motorhome, sipping a bottle of water.

"Hey," you said, approaching him.

"Hey," he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, almost shyly, you added, "You know, I couldn’t have done this without you."

Max shook his head. "You could have. I just helped you realize it."

You stepped closer, your heart racing. "Still, thank you."

He met your gaze, and for the first time, you saw vulnerability in his eyes. "Anytime," he said softly.

The distance between you felt impossibly small, and as the night stretched on, you realized something had changed—something that couldn’t be undone.

Max hadn’t just made you a winner. He’d made you believe in yourself. And in the process, you’d found something neither of you had been looking for but couldn’t ignore any longer.

@justaf1girl, @anamiad00msday

[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.

[srslylini]

The thing about Act 1 of season 2 is that, while in context with the rest of s2 it was bad, they actually did set up a good story and continued season 1 pretty amazingly.

There were still some problems but genuinely most of those problems stem from the rest of the Episodes not delivering and not on the first 3 setting stuff up.

Act 1 giving us the tree being sick? Really good idea, perfect set up even the connection between the hextech and it being sick? Nice as fuck. It's what they did with it (nothing) and how it didn't matter (at all) that destroys Act 1.

Caitlyn's set up was absolutely not bad, and a lot of people were praising it. It made sense for her character and it also didn't seem like they thought she was right. Not with all the other episodes after Act 1, though. Contrary to populer believe I like morally not so good (evil) characters if they make sense. Caitlyns narrative was promising to be interesting they just didn't do anything with it and acted like what she did in Act 1 was fine and excusable and alright. It wasn't. Had they actually done something with what they set up with her, well I wouldn't be standing here now.

They also promised this season being a Vi focused season and while I would say that Act 1 did actually give us a lot of Vi, in context with the other Acts... no. In hindsight there was no need to make her an Enforcer. "But the lore-" I'm gonna stop you right there, they also completely changed Viktors lore, and even Jinx' lore. So?

CaitVi was also something that, in Act 1, I was way more ready to get behind. I was a CaitVi shipper in season 1, I did like their dynamic and wanted it explored. I liked their kiss. I did not like what they did after that. Not Caitlyn hitting Vi and then getting to hit her again and never apologizing. I am a lesbian and here I am telling you: Everything that happened with them was weird.

Act 1 also gave us this genuine good found family between Isha, Sevika and Jinx. It was so moving and well done even in such short of a time (there is still stuff to criticize about it but the consensus is that it is awesome so yk I can overlook certain stuff). And then they turned around and wrote Sevika completely out of the story and killed the plot device that was Isha. When Isha should have mattered.

I didn't even originally dislike how many new characters they introduced because season 1 once mastered characters like this. Maddie seemed promising, until she wasn't. Loris seemed interesting and well thought out until he wasn't. Lest was such a good addition until she was just written out of the show completely. Don't even get me started on Steb.

Ambessas ploy in Act 1 was also something that I genuinely liked. Even Mel figuring out a mystery was good. Until they decided "well that doesn't matter anymore".

In Act 1 I did actually like the subtleties. I liked how Caitlyn saw the Violets and how, in episode 3 of s2 she saw one through her rifles lense (I have no idea what that is called, sue me haha) floating over Jinx. Because it was a nice add on and nothing that would destroy your viewing experience if not noticed, and it wasn't on the nose.

While a lot of directions they took, I was already questioning (the Smeech stuff took up way too much time) I was ready to give that a pass because it didn't destroy anything, yet.

Up until episode 4, it all seemed well enough, and while the prison scene also made me question stuff (that god damn Enforcer pants joke oh my god I will never let that go what was that) it wasn't anything too bad, yet.

The reason Act 1 doesn't work now is because of Act 2 and Act 3. Had Act 1 stood alone or had Act 2 and Act 3 delivered on Act 1, we wouldn't have that much of a problem. As it is the further Acts destroy what Act 1 seemed to carefully build up.

In the end what seemed purposefully and artistically done in Act 1 now seems like something the writers actually believe.

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Sometimes I think about the Voice and Vessel ships that aren't their respective pairs. So I'm gonna ramble about the ones I really like

Hero and Thorn: I like to think that out of all the vessels, Hero would resonate with Thorn the most. Both of them start off as soft individuals who end up hurting each other after things go south and becoming hostile and cautious. But they eventually reach a point where they are so tired of all the pain and mistrust. Even so, they still want to believe they can make things right and leave together peacefully. Hero always believed in doing the right thing. His compassion is enough to let Thorn know that he truly wants to help her and she can trust him. She's scared of being hurt again and so is he. Now that they understand each other and the pain they've been through, they want to reassure each other that things will be ok between them now. And that's just very sweet to me.

Wraith and Opportunist OR Wraith and Cheated: Ok I might be cheating here since I choose two different voices to pair with Wraith. But I like them both for different reasons! The dynamic between Wraith and Opportunist is just so hilarious (Scary villainess and her loyal bumbling henchman LOL). I love how he tries to butter up to her and she isn't having it at first, but then she starts finding him amusing. And if you let her out, she's genuinely endeared by his support. It's a funny interaction and probably the one nice thing Oppy has ever done for a princess. It also makes sense too since they both have abandonment issues and will do anything it takes to not be hurt again, even if it means they have to hurt others. As for Wraith and Cheated, both are pissed off by the unfair circumstances that they are each placed in (Wraith being cruelly slain as a trapped prisoner and Cheated taking on the role as a slayer with a terrible reward). They take out their anger on each other because they both think that the other made things worse for them. But even so, I like to think this shared feeling might offer both of them to connect somehow. Even if these two aren't willing to empathize with each other, they both know that whatever game they're playing in is "rigged against them". So perhaps, if they were to put their hatred aside and work together, they can both fight for the freedom they've been longing for so long. It may never happen, but ideally it would be an endearing dynamic.

[The next few ships include Pristine Cut Spoilers]

Paranoid and Happily Ever After: We know that Paranoid is usually afraid of the princess, always expecting the worst possible thing she could do to her. But what happens when she meets a princess who just wants to make her happy and is clearly miserable because of it? Despite her initial caution, Paranoid realizes that HEA is just as trapped as she is and urges her to be honest so that the both of them can be free. Sure enough, that urge is what encourages HEA to finally speak up for herself. Perhaps she knows how anxious Paranoid is but still wants her to feel comfortable around her. So she tries to build trust with the voice by being patient and caring towards her. Thanks to this, Paranoid slowly feels less afraid of HEA. Both of these fragile souls know how much it hurts to have their will and freedom taken away, but they can seek comfort in each other now that they are finally free.

Cold and Fury: I really love how out of all the vessels, Cold is clearly amused by Fury (if you get him from Adversary). As a voice who claims to "feel nothing", it would be expected for him to be drawn to someone filled with raw emotion. (WHO'S READY FOR BURNED BRIDGES 2.0 BABYYYYYYYYYY) But then it turns out that he shares something in common with her. Both of them are desperate to feel something, anything. And for Fury in particular, she wants to feel the spark she once had so bad but can't anymore. Once she's taken out all of her anger, once she's done with her agonizing torment, she's left in a sad, lost, and empty state. But Cold is still there. Despite everything, he was able to withstand all the pain. And he too wants to feel something; he just didn't want to do the same thing over and over with Fury. Even if they have both have grown numb to their own feelings, they can still build something together. It's not too late for either of them.

Skeptic and Eye of the Needle: So this is mostly based on the updated ending for EOTN when you free her with Skeptic. Once she's finally out, she is left in a state of confusion. Violence is the only thing she ever cared about and everything outside of that is so new to her. She feels so lost and scared, as if she had long forgotten something important. And that's when Skeptic comes in. He'd be the best one to help her come to terms with her identity crisis. He also knows what it's like to feel lost with so many unanswered questions and he's sure EOTN has a lot of them. So he's willing to guide her towards the answers she is looking for, no violence required. And EOTN would be grateful for this...although this probably won't stop her from wanting to fight him too. (She'd still think he’s a weakling who needs to toughen up and be her equal.) The spark she once had isn't lost yet; she just needs a different approach.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

"We'll just have to remind her that she wasn't to blame until it sticks in that case," Antonio said, before nodding, "I will hope so. And you did brilliantly yourself, quickly thinking with your own abilities and using the cuff. It was good to work with you as well. I will say though, it was mostly her. Her mindset and thoughts were still there beneath the mind control. My method was just guiding her back to them, and having the reassurance of knowing her found family is here to look after her."

Okay, and a bit of actual mental manipulation to get her to come close enough to get the cuff on her and make her feel too tired to fight, but it was for a good reason.

"Heh, may, may that scar forever be, be a tribute to, to the time you, you lived and, and that you're gonna keep living. And, and I'm fine, he, he just got my, my shirt," Russell said, "N-nothing more."

Bill made a move to go and fetch the requested juice from the kitchen, but Russell subtly shook his head. Travis was watching the front door for the time being, just to be safe.

"I'll, I'll do it," Russell then said, "Go, and, and get some rest. You've, you've done enough."

But then it was Travis' turn to yell in alarm when the ghost woman made her appearance. Antonio's tail briefly puffed up and his ears shot straight up. But then Travis once again put a hand to his chest and then took a deep breath.

"You forgot to tell me about the ghost lady, Custard," Travis said.

"No, she, she was one of the first people I, I mentioned," Russell said, as he moved into the kitchen to go and get the drink, "You want anything, Lucien?"

"Oh, my bad. I must have forgotten because of absolutely everything else I was taking in," Travis said, before nodding at Veronica, "Nice to meet you though. Sorry for the shouting. I'm new to all of this."

Bill would have usually protested other people doing things when he was meant to be the host, but it seemed he no longer had the energy to do so. He made his way back to where he was, slumping against the wall.

"I hope we will see each other again soon," Leofric said to Josh and Mark. Bill gave them a small wave of his own, "Under better circumstances."

"I apologise," Leofric said to Veronica. Despite not being able to properly see her, he still recognised the new presence by her smell and her voice, "I was caught unaware myself and subjected to one of the few things that can hurt me. It will take time to recover fully, but I can assure you this is temporary. That said, if you are feeling well enough to act, then I appreciate you allowing me to rest for a moment. Feel free to look through my bag for anything that might be of help."

Hopefully that moment would not become too many. He was sure Veronica would ask him for help if she needed it, so he took that moment to sit on the floor, his eyes closed and his back to the wall.

Antonio glanced over to the kitchen and then looked at Lucien.

"I'll offer Russell a hand. I may not be able to heal people, but I can at least help get refreshments together," Antonio said, as he then went to join Russell, who had found some apple juice and was pouring it into a glass. "You look like you could do with a sit down yourself."

Bill had shut his eyes briefly. At least in an effort to relieve his own feelings of sickness, but what surprised him was the feeling of wet on his cheeks. Red drips had started to slide down his face. They shot open, and his gaze shot around as he looked for a place to go and hide until he get the fact he had started crying out of control before anyone noticed.

"William?" Leofric's voice got his attention. Of course he could smell it, and of course he didn't realise what it was, given that he still couldn't see, "Are you bleeding? Were you hiding it?"

"No, no, no, I'm, I'm..." Bill's voice quivered and he couldn't but trail off as he put a couple of hands to face his face then. His shoulders shook and a quiet sob escaped from beneath his palms.

"Neither do I. Unfortunately, she most likely will." Lucien replied, before looking over, "You did an impressive job. I'd dare say Rook's recovery will be speedier entirely thanks to your efforts. It was a pleasure to assist you."

Yes, it was nice to finally have his own sidekick.

"Perhaps it's a downside to his own abilities." he then added, "I've been wondering why he left my shop in such a hurry. I hope the scar I left on his hand never fades and I'm glad he didn't leave you with any either, Russell."

They would recover from this too and perhaps finally gain the upper hand on that toxic moron.

Erica nodded, "Okay." She went right ahead to place Rook on the couch, then worked to remove her helmet and place it nearby. "I'd like some fruit juice if you got it. I'll get Rook out of this thing first, though. We should check that she isn't hurt."

She doubted that was the case, but she felt confirming that would have helped the general mood.

Erica's ears perked up, as the faintest scent of wildflowers caught her attention and she jumped up to greet Veronica. "Hello!"

The ghost lady barely had time to appear before she was hugged by a purring elf. Veronica gently patted her head while she looked around. "I see you all more or less got away. That's a relief."

"That guy messed with Rook's marks! He made her attack Bill." Erica explained, pulling back.

Veronica immediately set off to check Rook's condition. "...Boys."

Mark and Josh hurried over.

"Go help Edmund. The ship crushed on Liberty Island while we were missing."

"Got it. Keep us posted!" Mark said, before hurrying after Josh. Rook's sword was left by the door, as that was clearly the most reasonable place for it to be.

"You don't look too well yourself, Leofric." Veronica added calmly. She felt she didn't need to say more on the matter. Leofric was most likely perfectly aware of his own conditions.

Lucien figured that was a good time to remove the cuff from Rook's wrist, feeling it might interfere with Veronica's magic as well. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket, then took a moment to pull himself together while the room around him stopped spinning.

[deadhands69]

Under the Christmas Tree 

MDNI 

Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Content/warnings/etc: gn/afab reader, Chapter 431 spoilers, porn with plot, post-canon/aged up slightly for no other reason than me being amused by the idea of Shouto Todoroki spending the entirety of his twenties after ch431 making stacks of soba bowls instead of ever attempting to get laid. He does get laid in this though: blowjob, fingering, slightly awkward sex (f on top, m on top), also contains swearing and explicit conversations.

2 1/2 Months Ago: Kaminari’s Halloween Party 

It wasn't really Halloween, but three days after. Being heroes, you are all used to it. Drinking holidays always bring out a villain streak in a lot of people so most of your gatherings end up on off days. After the long week, it was nice to have a lowkey night with a few old friends.

“Okay, you're up next!” Kirishima yells across the table, knuckles deep in candy corn. 

“Alright,” you pause to consider your next words. Looking down at your four upright fingers before continuing, “never have I ever…”

You can't remember what your actual words were. Whatever you said, it was boring. A few people groan around the circle, fingers dropping, then it's Sero’s turn. And he was determined to spice it back up again. 

“Never have I ever,” he starts with a twisted smile, “eaten ass…before breakfast.”

“Booooo,” Kaminari groans, tossing a few pieces of candy corn at him before dropping his last finger. “Okay, fine. Who's next?”

Shouto is up next. You prepared yourself for another odd one, his last turn was that he's never worn mismatched socks.

“Hey Todoroki,” chirped Mina, “quite a few fingers you're holding up there.”

He glanced down to the nine fingers still remaining before he looked at everyone else's in confusion. He was the only one in the room not down to one hand. Kaminari, Hagakure, and Shinso were all out. 

“Oh. Isn't that.. How you win?” 

“By losing at life?” Bakugo laughs. 

“There's no way you aren't lying,” Jiro adds, “wasn't Hagakure’s ‘never have I ever fucked a girl?’”

“I haven't done that with anyone,” Shouto responded. 

“There's no way,” Sero responded, “you're thirty! You've been voted the hottest hero in every girly magazine for ten years straight. I'm not buying it.”

“It's true, I really haven't,” Shouto said quite plainly, before glancing around the table again. He briefly locked eyes with you, searching for your reaction before quickly looking away. A blush crept up on his cheeks. 

Up to that moment, it had never occurred to him to be self conscious about his lack of sexual experience (or about anything, really.) But that night, with all of your eyes staring, he started to think maybe something was wrong with him. 

3 Weeks Ago: Mina & Kirishima’s Kitchen

“Here’s to comfort,” you read. 

“Ooh that's always a fun one!” Mina exclaimed, grabbing the blue stick out of your hand. “I'll pass that along to your Secret Santa!”

Every year since graduating from UA, your friends group has organized a gift giving game. It had now become some convoluted version of Secret Santa that started relatively normal but gained extra steps and rules along the way. At some point, popsicle sticks in a jar with phrases on the bottom of each were added to give your gifter a theme to stick to. Partially for fun, mostly because a few of your former classmates struggled without a prompt. 

“Ooooh, and guess what Todoroki got!” Mina fished through the jar for a green popsicle stick before holding it up, “‘a new experience!’ You can help him with that, riiiight?”

“Oh come on,” you dismiss, “he's cute but he’s clearly not interested in that sort of thing.”

“That's not what he said last week,” Mina winked at you. You look to Jiro for some confirmation.

“In more or less words, yeah.” 

“And that means…” you ask.

“I said ‘ooh sounds like someone’s getting a blowjob from Santa this year!’” Mina began laughing too hard to keep talking. Jiro continued, “we had to explain that no, we do not actually mean Santa. It was a whole thing, but in the end he said it’s something he’d been ‘thinking about a lot lately.’”

Kaminari chimed in, “and he’s had a crush on you for ages! I think you should do it, even if you don’t get him for Secret Santa.”

“Of course [y/n] will get him, we'll rig it. Like we do every year,” Mina flicked her eyebrows up at you. 

“Wait, what??” Kaminari exclaimed, dropping his beer. 

“You didn't know that?” Jiro asked, while throwing a towel at him. “You've been at the planning meetings, how could you not know that?”

“Okay, okay, you can explain it to him later. But now, let's get back to what's important.”

She moved into your space with intensity until her pink nose was nearly touching yours. Without breaking eye contact she asked:

“will you do it, [y/n]?” 

Current Date: Kaminari’s Holiday Party

“Okay, everyone remember. There are five hours left of today!” Mina announces, “I repeat, 5 hours! If you do not give your Secret Santa gift in this time, you will owe them lunch for a week!”

Secretly, nearly everyone hoped to get Bakugo for this reason - he’s an amazing cook and hates the game. Guaranteed lunch for a week. 

Maybe you got him this year, your gifter still hasn’t done anything. You haven’t either though.

It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s just… awkward. 

Plus, the opportunity hadn’t come up. You were only alone with Shouto twice in the past few weeks. Once, you were both called to an emergency and went home covered in ash and blood. The other time, you were trying to work up the courage to bring it up when Denki showed up at your door to use the bathroom after bursting a pipe in his (the joys of living two doors away from him.) After that, he was out of town for a week. Then he was jetlagged. This is your first time seeing him since then. He looks well rested, at least. 

Four hours pass by quickly. 

You need to find a way to draw him out but every time you’ve tried, he’s been busy. First with distributing the handmade soba bowls and chopsticks he’s gifting everyone. Now he’s playing a card game with Sero and Kirishima. You’d been following him around all night, looking for your opening to no avail. Maybe it’s the constant glancing or the way you’re tapping your foot, but his two opponents have taken notice of your predicament.  

“Heyy,” a drunk Kirishima throws an arm over Shouto’s shoulders, “it would be super manly if you helped [y/n] with their Christmas tree. It’s been propped up in the corner for days. Driving me crazy.” He winks at you.

“Yeah,” Shouto replies calmly, “I can do that. Right now?”

Thank you Kiri!

“Yeah,” Kirishima gives his shoulder a squeeze before letting him go, “better get to it before we forget again.”

“But I won’t for-” you grab his arm, immediately dragging him out the door and down the hallway towards your apartment. 

Fortunately, your place looks nice right now. You'd decorated, initially planning to host the party. However, your friends stepped in and made the decision to give you space for Shouto's gift. Plus, moving supplies to Denki's apartment took them all of five minutes. 

“This must be important to you, I’m happy to help,” Todoroki says while you push the door open to a perfectly upright and decorated Christmas tree. Considering that the glowing bulbs reflecting off the shiny ornaments are the only light source in the room, it certainly draws the attention. 

“Huh? Oh, right…” you really hoped he saw through the excuse, but this couldn’t have been that easy. He glances between you and the tree for a moment. 

“You don’t actually need help with this, do you?” he tentatively asks. 

“No, Shouto. I don’t need help with the tree. I…” you pause, considering your next words. You try to sound collected but they all come spilling out at once. “I’ve been trying to get you alone because I got you for secret santa.”

“Oh,” the previous conversation with Mina and Jiro comes flooding back to him, “oh.” 

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, very okay. Before I presume too much, do you mind telling me what the gift is?”

“It's…a new experience for you.”

He seems to like your confidence, that you're more experienced than him. When you grab the collar of his shirt to pull him further into the room, he follows eagerly. Dropping to sit across from you on the rug in the middle of your floor, the lights catch his face perfectly. You'd never realized how beautiful his eyes are up close. 

Leaning in, you press your lips into his.

You know it's not his first kiss. In varying years, a few of your friends have bragged about kissing him at midnight on New Years. But you know he's never kissed anyone like this before. Your hands are buried in his two toned hair, pressing him to the floor as you climb on top. He groans into your mouth, his head tipping up to you as his lips chase more closeness with yours. Your tongue slides over his, deepening the kiss. 

You take off his sweater, then the shirt underneath. Dragging your fingers over his bare chest.

Hips pressing into his while you straddle him. Dragging yourself over the hard bulge forming in his pants. The heat builds in your gut. It's time to take things further. 

Reluctantly, you pull your lips away from his. Crawling backwards down his body. At some point, while your face hovers above his belt, you have a realization. 

“You want this, right?” you ask, staring up into his heterochromatic eyes. Knowing that Shouto Todoroki would easily get himself into a situation like this without meaning to, it felt important to ask. 

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” you pull his underwear down with the pants as he tips his hips up to help you slide them off. 

And… wow.

Sure, it's not the most massive dick in the world but definitely the biggest you've ever seen in person. His pale leaky tip begging to be put in your mouth. He twitches at the feeling of your warm breath as you move closer, finally making contact when you lick the vein up his length. 

As soon as you touch him, he crumples under you like tissue paper. He exhales like he’s never relaxed so much in his life. Maybe he hasn’t.

You wrap your lips around his tip and press your tongue onto his shaft. Using your hands to make up for the areas your mouth can’t reach. As your head dips up and down, working up a good amount of spit and precum, his moaning increases. Soon, he’s jutting his hips up towards you. His hand gripping your hair harder.

You know he could cum right now if you let him, but you have more ideas tonight.

Pulling your lips away with a pop, you sit back up. He watches as you move over him, still working to steady his breath. This is a lot more than he really expected to happen tonight but he’s loving every minute of it.

Taking off the amount of clothes you need to, you laugh slightly at how clothed you still are in comparison to him. He’s down to just his socks. 

“You can take your socks off, you know.” 

He does, quickly. Now you have him completely naked under you.

Straddling his lap, you line him up with your entrance pulling your underwear to the side.

When you sink down onto his tip, you feel his girth immediately. Making it what you’d assume is about halfway down, you slide back up. Continuing to envelop him in small increments. You want so badly to maintain the image he has of you being cool and experienced but the stretch of taking all of him is becoming more of a task than you anticipated.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re doing great. It’s just…you’re kind of big.”

“Oh. I'm sorry if my penis isn't ideal.”

You could laugh. Seriously. The amount of guys who would be massively jealous and he has no fucking idea. 

“No, it's definitely not that. You have nothing to worry about; it'll just take a bit to get used to.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better for you? I know you’re doing this for me, but I'd like to make you feel good too.”

“Yeah, you could use your fingers?”

One issue - you forgot his fingers are massive as well.

“Is this okay?” he asks, slowly inching his middle finger in after you showed him how. 

“Yeah, just.. A little faster now.”

Eventually, he gets the hang of it. Earning a huge gush of cum from you, leaving his fingers sticky. His hand lingers for a moment while you come down. You’re still gripping his shoulders and breathing hard into his chest. Finally, you look up at him.

You haven’t seen him look this proud of himself in a long time.

“Does this mean we can try again?” he asks, “if you’re finished after that I can respect that as well.” 

“Yeah, we can definitely keep going,” you smile, shoving him onto his back again. You begin removing more clothes, starting with your now damp undergarments. 

This time, when you line yourself up you slide a little easier onto him. Still not quite fitting the whole thing but the stretch is much less now. 

Your elbows drop by his head, caging him to the ground under you. He brings his warm (and cold) hands to your hips, enjoying the way your skin moves against his fingers as you bounce up and down on him. The sound of your combined breathing fills your living room, nearly echoing from the corners. Holiday lights still illuminating his face while he stares up at you in amazement.

Why didn’t you do this sooner?

You continue riding his dick until the tension in your gut builds. Soon you’re clenching around him while holding onto his shoulders for support again. Your bounce slows to a grind while you press yourself as close to him as possible.

“Shouto,” you moan into his ear.

He groans and turns his head to kiss you.

“Can I..” he asks, sitting the two of you up while he holds you against his chest.

“Uh huh,” you nod and he has you on your back. Hips rutting between your legs that are now wrapped around his back.

Within the minute, it’s his turn. 

“I’m about to cum,” he moans, “is it okay if I-”

“Yeah, please cum,” you whisper.

Immediately, he whimpers - pulling you closer while he gushes inside of you.

"I've wanted to do that for years," he murmurs.

You move the hair out of each other’s eyes while you catch your breath. Eventually making your way off the living room floor.

While you’re getting cleaned up, he excuses himself briefly. Saying he needed to grab something from his car. You figure it’s toiletries or something and carry on.

A few minutes later, as you’re coming out of the bathroom freshly changed into comfortable clothes as he re-enters your front door. In his arms is a massive fluffy blanket, which he promptly wraps around you then leads you to your couch. 

“I’m your secret santa this year. I was waiting until after midnight to give you your gift, I wanted the excuse to take you out to lunch for a week,” he says while wrapping his arms around you, warming you further. “There's a new soba place I'd like to try, but I'm open to your suggestions as well.”

Down the hall, your friends were all guessing when they’d see you next. Some saying that one or both of you would come running back within the hour. Much to the delight of Mina, Jiro, Kaminari, and Kirishima - they guessed right. No one saw the two of you until you emerged from your apartment the next morning.

m.list

Okay, this whole thing was admittedly written after reading chapter 431 with izuchako becoming a thing and Jiro/Denki’s friendship deepening while Shouto just doubles down hard on soba. Something about that plus his absolute obliviousness is hilarious to me but I mostly write smut so it led to this weird awkward thing. Thanks for reading!

[anotherjheastan]

Another Complicated Love Story

A Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley FanFic

Chapter 4 | Masterlist

CW none

Chapter 5: Power Trip

Would you believe me if I said I'm in love? Baby, I want you to want me

Would you believe me if I said I'm in love? Baby, I want ya

And we are we are we are, got me up all night

And we are we are we are, all I'm singin' is love songs

- Power Trip by J. Cole ft. Miguel

December 24, 2024

Jey woke up in his bed alone. He groaned as he stretched. He had slept terribly. He tried not to replay last night in his head, but it was hard: Rhea struggling to breath, screaming at him. They were supposed to fly back to Florida together, but they didn’t. Rhea switched her seat on the plane. He didn’t know he could feel so angry and so sad at the same time. That heat and cold flared up again and formed a tornado in his chest. He felt his eyes water, but he refused to cry again. He had cried at the arena worried about Rhea. Seeing her passed out broke something in him. The helplessness he had felt made him want to punch a hole in a wall. And he had cried on the plane. What had he done to make her not trust him? Or had she never trusted him? Maybe it was a good thing he never told her he loved her.

Jey took a quick shower and threw on some workout clothes. He went into the kitchen and his heart dropped. One of the gifts he had bought for Rhea was a coffee maker. It sat on the counter with a big red bow, a few bags of her favorite ground coffee next to it. He had bought it so she wouldn’t have to rush home to make her morning cup or pick up something she wouldn’t like as much. He had watched her at her place. He realized how much she liked the ritual of making it. She took her time with every step and savored the finished product. Jey didn’t drink coffee. It made him too jittery. But he wanted her to have a comfort here.

He sighed, making a mental note to return it after the holidays. He grabbed a bottle of water and headed back to his room. He thought about her other gift in his nightstand drawer with the note he had written. He heard his phone ping a couple of times. Then he heard it ring. He grabbed it. It was Jimmy. He declined the call and glanced at the messages. It was Jimmy and Naomi responding to his “Rhea and I are done” text. He really didn’t feel like talking about it. He had been looking forward to being with Rhea last night and giving her the gifts this morning so she could spend more time with her friend. Maybe he would pass along the coffee and the other gift to Naomi to give her. Maybe he would throw the note away.

He texted Jimmy, “Going to the gym. Talk after.”

He grabbed his car keys, threw on his hoodie, and headed out the door.

With rap music blasting in his ears, he lifted weights. He kept pushing Rhea out of his thoughts. Memories of her laugh, kisses, and love bites kept popping up. Then the memory of her pulling away from him popped up. Her angry screams echoed in his head. He pushed himself harder. He thought about last week when he got Rhea’s gift: a Cuban link chain bracelet with diamonds, similar to his. He had met up with Jimmy afterward.

“Oh that’s nice,” Jimmy said. “Yeah, she’s gonna love that, uce.”

“Yeah I can’t wait to see her reaction,” Jey said. “You know what else caught my eye in the jewelry store?”

Jimmy looked at him, skeptical. “I know you not talking about rings?”

“I’m talking about rings,” Jey said.

Jimmy sat back in shock. “I knew it was serious, but rings already?”

“I love her,” Jey said, shrugging. He was grinning. “I think she might be the one.”

“She said she loves you?” Jimmy asked.

Jey rubbed the back of his head and Jimmy sucked his teeth.

“I haven’t even said I love you to her, uce,” Jey said.

“Naomi is right. Y’all are trippin. Don’t tell her I said that,” Jimmy said. “But why not?”

“I’m waiting for the right time. I know she loves me though,” Jey said.

“How you know?”

Jey put his hand on his heart. “I can feel it.”

Jimmy shook his head. “You might wanna slow down there.”

“I can see it too,” Jey said. “The way I see it all over you and Naomi. But I can tell that now’s not the right time. I’m thinking about telling her on Christmas Eve when we exchange gifts. But I don’t know.”

“Be careful,” Jimmy said.

“With what?” Jey asked.

“Your heart, uce. You seem more sure than she is.”

“I’m used to waiting for her to catch up,” Jey said with a chuckle.

“I know, but this is different. This isn’t just a crush you’re talking about, uce. You want a commitment. You need to make sure she’s ready for that. Otherwise…”

“I need to let her go,” Jey said, finishing Jimmy’s thoughts.

He re-racked the dumbbells and shook out his arms before going to work out his legs. He hadn’t let Rhea go, but maybe it was best she stayed gone.

After the gym, he felt clear-headed. The rumbling in his chest had also died down. He reluctantly looked at his phone, not excited about returning Jimmy’s call. He could already hear Naomi chastising him. He figured she would side with her bestie Rhea.

Jey called Jimmy as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“What’s up, uce?” Jimmy asked.

“Nothing,” Jey replied.

“Something happened. What you mean y’all done?”

“Oh Naomi’s friend didn’t tell you what happened?”

“Oh she’s just Naomi’s friend now?”

“She ain’t nothing to me,” Jey said. He felt a pang in chest, but he ignored it.

“Jey, be forreal. What happened?” Jimmy asked, earnestly.

Jey told him what happened. Jimmy was quiet for a moment.

“Yeah that’s pretty much what she told Nae,” Jimmy said. “But did you tell her y’all were just talking about Waffle House and Christmas plans?”

“I never got a chance to tell her. She shut me down right away.”

“Damn. I’ll come over and check on you,” Jimmy said.

“Naw, I know y’all are getting stuff ready for Christmas. Don’t yall have people over?”

“Yeah a few, but they’ll be alright. You’re not alright,” Jimmy said.

“I’m fine,” Jey said.

“Jey,” Jimmy said, sternly.

“Alright, I’ll come over there.”

“Cool. I’m gonna give you an hour. If you’re not on the way over by then, I’m coming to you.”

“Bet,” Jey said, with a laugh.

“I’m serious, you know?”

“I know.”

“Love you, uce.”

“Love you.”

Jey arrived at Jimmy and Naomi’s an hour later, Rhea’s gifts in hand. Naomi gave him a big hug and reassured him that no matter what, he was still her brother. It made him feel better, knowing she was on his side. The three of them went into the sunroom to chat.

“I should have listened to her,” Jey said. “She told me she wasn’t ready.”

“Yeah I guess she’s still dealing with trauma from Dom? Damn, I hope I didn’t push her too hard,” Naomi said, rubbing her arms.

“No, I think she thought she was ready,” Jey said. “I wanted her to be ready too.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Jimmy asked.

“Nothing,” Jey said. “Naomi is gonna give her the gifts along with the stuff y’all got her. And that’ll be it.”

“Jey.”

“Jimmy.”

“Jey, you were just telling me how she might be the one.”

“We can’t be together if she doesn’t trust me.”

“So you’re just gonna give up?”

“It’s not on me, uce. She won’t even talk to me. Plus weren’t you the one saying to let her go if she wasn’t ready?”

“Would you talk to her though? If you could?” Naomi interjected.

Jey sighed. “Maybe.”

Jimmy smiled and Jey shook his head.

“Look, I know what I said,” Jimmy said. “But falling out over a misunderstanding ain’t it.”

“I can be a mediator for you two,” Naomi said. “I love you both and want what’s best for both of you. Even if that means y’all aren’t together.”

Jey pushed the sadness he was feeling down. It hurt, but not as much as Rhea pulling away from him. And he tried not to hate himself for missing her.

“When is she picking up gifts?” Jey asked.

“Thursday since we’re all supposed to be driving up to Jacksonville for the holiday show,” Naomi said.

“Fuck! I forgot,” Jey said.

“I mean, Rhea, Jessica, and I will be alright if you wanna drive by yourself,” Naomi said.

“Naw cuz the plan was to come back here Thursday night so we could chill the whole day Friday,” Jey said. “I don’t want y’all driving back late by yourselves.”

“Are you sure? We’re big girls, Jey,” Naomi said, smiling.

“Yes, he’ll ride with y’all,” Jimmy said. “Since I can't go anymore. Plus Rhea’s friend can’t help you drive.”

“I just don’t want drama in the car,” Naomi said, holding up her hands. “It’s not too long a drive, but still.”

“If she wants to come over to talk before we get on the road, I’ll hear her out.”

“Okay. I’ll let her know,” Naomi said.

Thursday, December 26

Jacksonville was only about 2 hours from them, but they wanted to get out there by noon. Rehearsal was at 2 pm. Jey spent Christmas at Jimmy and Naomi’s, a mix of their families there to celebrate. Rhea and her friend Jessica were coming over at 9 am, giving them an hour to talk before the four of them got on the road. He had been looking forward to meeting Jessica, but now he was nervous. He didn’t really know if Rhea was still angry. She hadn’t reached out to him at all. But he was glad she was talking to Naomi. That let him know she was okay.

At 9 am sharp, the doorbell rang. Jey was waiting in the sunroom out of the way. He started pacing, unsure of how to feel. Even if they made up, how would they move forward? Jey hadn’t only been thinking about whether she could trust him. He had been thinking about whether he could trust her.

Naomi opened the door and smiled at Jey. She stepped aside and Rhea walked in. Jey felt all the breath go out of him. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and was more gorgeous than ever. She had on an unzipped black hoodie, a white cropped t-shirt showing off her tattoos. Ripped blue jeans and black Vans finished her look. She was holding a Christmas gift bag in her hands. Rhea smiled, but Jey could tell she was nervous. Jey didn’t return her smile and she gripped the gift bag tighter.

“Can I leave you two alone?” Naomi asked.

“Yes,” they said simultaneously.

“Okay. I’ll be back at 10,” Naomi said. She shut the door behind her.

“Hi,” Rhea said, softly. She was still standing near the door.

“Hi,” Jey said matter-of-factly. He put his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. Anger pushed away any affection he had been starting to feel. What they had was good. Why did she have to ruin it?

“Can we sit down?” Rhea asked.

“Yeah,” Jey said, sitting down.

Rhea sat on the other side of the couch, leaving some space between them. She put her gift bag in between them and rubbed her hands on her thighs. It was strange seeing her confidence shaken. She looked at him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted on Monday,” Rhea said slowly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I was wrong. I put my crap on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m starting therapy in January since I have unresolved emotions around…you know who. I don’t wanna put any more of my crap on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Jey nodded, taking it all in. It sounded good. It felt thoughtful, genuine. But he still had his pain and anger. And he was worried about getting hurt again.

“What happened…really hurt,” Jey started. “I care about you a lot. Trust is important to me. You have to trust me and I have to trust you. Right now, I don’t trust you.”

Rhea’s mouth twisted to the side. She blinked a few times and looked away from him. She took a deep breath and blew out a shaky breath. Jey ignored the urge to reach out and comfort her. She looked at him.

“I understand. And I will do everything in my power to earn your trust back. If…if you let me.” Rhea’s voice cracked at the end and a tear fell from her eye. She quickly wiped it away.

“We’ll see,” Jey said.

“Here’s your gift,” Rhea said, trying and failing to hold back more tears. She held out the bag to him. He took it, their hands brushing each other. He handed her her gift.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” Jey said.

Rhea stood up, wiping more tears away. “I’ll see you out there? Are we good for Jacksonville?”

Jey nodded. “We’re good.”

Rhea nodded and then quickly left. Jey was surprised at how quickly his tears fell. It was like he had been holding them back. He wiped his tears away. He looked in the gift bag: a PlayStation gift card, a Christmas card, an ugly Christmas pajamas and a Christmas onesie. He laughed at the sweater and onesie, certain Rhea had matching ones. He opened the card.

Thank you for changing the end of my year for the better. I never imagined I would be lucky enough to find someone as amazing, kind, thoughtful, caring as you. I never thought I’d be envisioning a future with someone so soon. But don’t people always that corny shit, “when you know, you know?” Well I guess it wasn’t just corny shit after all. And I should be brave and say this in person, but I love you. And I know it���s probably too soon, but I just wanted to let you know how I feel.

XOXO, Rhea.

Jey wiped away more tears and smiled, feeling some of his anger dissipate. She loved him too.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎThe Road Not Taken౨ৎ꣑ৎ

꣑ৎ"There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me."꣑ৎ

౨ৎ꣑ৎ12 Days of Christmas Masterlist౨ৎ꣑ৎ [fem reader] contains: mental illness pairing: fem reader x alex nilsen summary: alex was your first real love and your first real heartbreak. so why have your parents invited him to their holiday party? author’s note: so...this was very hard for me to write for some reason, and I'm still not 100% about it but it is done and here and I hope it is good Spotify Playlist

The journey from the airport was a nostalgic trick.

Every road, every business, every traffic light was tainted by the past's glow. You weren't sure if you should stare into it or turn away. Your parents chatted excitedly in the front seats while you sat staring out the window, feeling as though you were universes away from them.

The skies were blue, the fresh layer of snow trampled by footprints on the sidewalk and torn to slush on the roads, turning grey as tires rolled through it. People out walking were bundled in puffy coats, woolen hats covering their ears as they chattered, excitedly based on their expressions. Tinsel candy canes and bells interwoven with string lights decorated the street posts, the city's attempt at being festive. You smiled a bit at the sight.

"Camille made it down yesterday," your mother said, stretching and tilting her head back to look at you. "She and John are staying at a hotel so you can have your old bedroom."

"Is there something wrong with the guest room?" you asked absentmindedly, tilting your forehead so it was pressed against the cool glass, a welcome relief from the air blasting you turned up to the highest setting.

"No," your father said simply, and you shrugged, adjusting the neck of your sweater. You supposed if you had a fiancé you wouldn't want to sleep in your childhood home either.

As the car pulled into your street, you lifted your head, rubbing at the smudge your forehead left. The house you grew up in looked the same as always, down to the usual holiday decorations. You could practically see your father standing on the ladder, hooking the lights to the roof while your mother nervously held the ladder, yelling at him not to fall like Clark Griswold in Christmas Vacation.

You went to unload your bags but your father insisted, making you feel more like a guest than you'd like. As you carefully made your way up the steps, avoiding ice patches, you paused as your mother grabbed your elbow, pulling you close. "I wanted to tell you...Camille and John aren't the only ones we've invited for Christmas."

"Oh?" You began to sort through your mind who else they could have brought over. Your aunt, maybe, from California? She loved a palm tree covered in lights more than anything, so you weren't sure why she'd come all the way to the Midwest for Christmas. Even so, you felt a twinge of excitement at the thought. She was sure to diffuse any possible tension that came with family in close quarters.

Turning around, you saw a vaguely familiar car parked in the far part driveway that you hadn't noticed before. Your aunt would have flown first class to Ohio, but she'd grown up here, so maybe she'd borrowed an old friend's vehicle? Thinking of how smooth and charming she was, you supposed anything was possible.

"It'll be nice," you decided, looking at your mother. "To have someone else here."

"It will!" She patted your arm, beginning to walk with you up the porch steps again. "This is part of why your sister couldn't take the guest bedroom. We wanted it available. And she had no objections."

"I'm sure she didn't," you commented. John was a soon-to-be heart surgeon from a wealthy family. You were sure he and Camille were staying in the nicest place in town. Again, not that you could blame them.

Opening the door, you stepped inside and slipped off your shoes, inhaling the scent of the peppermint candle your mother always burned for the duration of the month. The smell comforted you, and a barrage of memories dragged over you like a tidal wave, You pushed the bad ones down and sorted through the montage of good. Hot chocolate and snowball fights and knitted scarves and pink wrapping paper.

Wandering toward the kitchen, you daydreamt of a hot tea after your long journey, the perfect remedy to whatever stress you'd brought with you from home. In your experience, there was no problem a hot drink couldn't fix. Not that being home was a problem but...oh well. You hummed as you opened the cabinet, turning around, your eyes widening.

The mug slipped from your hands, and you barely registered the distinct sound of a thousand tiny pieces separating themselves from one, bouncing on the floor around your feet and creeping into cracks and under places out of reach. All you could do was stare straight ahead.

Because Alex Nilsen was sitting in front of you, looking like he'd seen a ghost even though he was in your parents' house.

Holidays with your family came in a set of traditions, like Russian nesting dolls. One thing led to another until the famous party at the end on Christmas Eve. It was a classy affair, long upheld by your parents since before you and Camille were born. Other happenings were developed and kept over the years, creating the sequence you could see so clearly in your mind.

And it was all about to be dismantled by a puppy-eyed new addition.

"Ed's going to be with David for a few weeks," your mother had said, trying to soothe you in the living room after the incident. "And poor Alex couldn't leave with the end of the school term. The Nilsens have been to their fair share of Christmas activities with us before-"

"But why isn't he at his own place?" you whispered, eyes darting to the living room entrance. "He lives close, doesn't he?"

"His apartment flooded," she explained, and you nodded once, biting your cheek. Of course it did. "So we offered for him to come stay here for now, since he's going to be with us so often for the next bit anyways."

"Right." You nodded, trying to remain calm. "Okay. Fine. This is fine."

"We thought you'd be happy about it." Your mother frowned, touching your elbow. "You used to be so close..."

"Yes. Yeah." You interjected, folding your arms over yourself. Push it down. Push it down. "It's fine. It'll be great. It was nice of you to invite him."

You hadn't told many people what happened. Maybe if your parents had known, they wouldn't have asked him over. They still would, you thought bitterly as you unpacked your things that night. You couldn't stop thinking about the unexpected houseguest sleeping down the hall. Was he thinking about you?

The thoughts were overwhelming. They plagued you even as you tried to sleep, tossing and turning in your time capsule of a room. You were turned to the side, facing away from your old bulletin board. The pictures hadn't been replaced since your senior year of high school, and you could feel their eyes on you even in the dark.

You didn't mean to sleep late, but it was past noon when you woke up, eyes still heavy. Lying in bed, one arm flung over your head, you strained your ears for the sounds of the house, but found none. It was quiet, a fairly unusual occurrence.

Pulling on a too-big sweatshirt and leggings, you trudged downstairs, pulling your hair back on the way. Alex was in the kitchen, and you gave him a half smile, opening the cabinet. You were determined to make a cup of tea without dropping the mug this time.

"Your parents went to lunch with Camille and John," he said behind you, tone light. "They'll all be back later."

"I see," you said casually, setting your mug in the microwave and pressing a few buttons. Turning, you found Alex with his laptop open on the table, blinking up at you.

Time is a funny thing. It seems to lengthen things, suggest change, but you could have sworn nothing about him did. If he was a map, you could have drawn him from memory and not one bit would be different. Hair, eyes, hands, nose, mouth. You didn't know if he felt the same.

He cleared his throat, leaning back in his seat. You tilted yourself back, trying not to slide in your fuzzy socks on the floor. "You're teaching here?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding once. "I like it. Same high school we went to."

A tiny smile quirked your lips up. Of course. You knew from your mother, but you had wanted to hear it from him. That he'd stayed.

Alex drummed his fingers on the table, waiting until after the microwave went off and you took the mug out to ask, "You're in Seattle now?"

"I am." You adjusted the string of your tea bag so you didn't have to look at him. "I've been there for a couple of years."

"Ah." Another bout of silence had you itching to race out of the kitchen, but you held it together. Be an adult.

You continued, trying to keep it casual. "My parents were a little upset that I didn't move closer, but Camille's close, so it's okay." You swallowed. "Her fiance's a-"

"Heart surgeon. Yeah, your mom mentioned it," he said, and you bit the inside of your cheek. He was studying you in that intrinsic Alex way. "She seems really excited about it."

"Very," you responded, taking a sip of your tea and daring to meet his eyes. Once you did, you immediately regretted it. He had a way about him that felt as though he could see straight to your secrets. "He's been really good for her. For Camille."

"She's doing better?" Alex asked, still watching you.

You swallowed. "Yeah. She's doing a lot better."

"Good," he said, and you looked into your tea for a second, unsure what else to say. Just when you were about to leave, he continued. "Look...I'm sorry. For showing up like this. I thought you knew about it-"

"It's fine." You shook your head, meeting his eyes again, giving him a small smile. "Really. It is. It...everything was a long time ago."

"It was," he agreed, eyebrows furrowing. "But it still-"

"I'm going to shower," you interjected, turning and starting to leave. "I'll be back down later." Without waiting for an answer, you trailed away, heart pounding in your ears.

It was more evidence nothing had changed. He was supposed to be a stranger now, but he pulled you right back in. A force of magnetism, just how he'd always been. And just like before, he made your heart beat differently, like it had found its other half.

He had been that. Someone you loved. And a secret voice inside you said that you hadn't stopped. Was that why you could hardly look at him? Why even the sight of him sent you into a spiral, guilt flooding you like a dam burst open? The one person you wanted to tell about it was downstairs where you'd left him, after you'd brushed him off like a stranger.

You avoided him all afternoon until you couldn't anymore, when the tell-tale signs of your parents' voices wafted upstairs, keys rattling, footsteps loud. Reluctantly, you began to wander in their direction, taking your sweet time with every step. For some reason, you were nervous, tense about it. Camille's pretty laugh pierced the air, and you took a deep breath before walking in, keeping a smile on your face. You're happy to see her.

"Hi!" she squealed, pulling you into a hug. You returned it, relaxing a little. This is your sister. You love her. It's okay.

"Hi Cami," you muttered, and she beamed, stepping aside so you could greet her fiancé. You hugged him too- he was famously good at it. "Hi John."

"You look so pretty," she gushed, looking over you. Smiling tightly, you took in her soft sweater and designer earrings. "We've gotta go shopping sometime. I just found the cutest boutique in town that you'd love."

"Right," you said, stepping to the side, accidentally bumping Alex's shoulder.

"Look at you two," Camille giggled as John slid an arm around her. "It's just like in high school."

Alex and you shared a look, and you pursed your lips. He tried not to smile. "I guess it is."

"We got everything at the store for baking," John said, the tips of his fingers rubbing your sister's side. "I think we're making one of everything."

"That's how it goes," you smiled. Yours and Alex's shoulders were touching but neither of you made any move to separate.

Your mother called from the kitchen that the cookies weren't going to bake themselves, and you all trailed in, standing alert and waiting for your assignments. This was the first tradition in the holiday set- making enough cookies to feed a small nation. This kitchen had multiple ovens, and this was the main reason why. They were all preheating thanks to your mother, and she was separating ingredients into groups.

Predictably, you and Alex were put to work on one recipe, while your parents, John, and Camille tackled the other two. The kitchen was lively with both chatter and one of Frank Sinatra's Christmas albums in the background. Camille was telling a story about how she'd accidentally ordered a tree that was far too tall for her and John's living room, and your parents were laughing along across the counter with them.

It was easy to feel disconnected like this. They were all here, and you were off in the big city, the one who left. The outsider. Even though you'd been raised here just the same as your sister, it all felt like a story from somewhere else. Somehow you were an intruder, a guest, where she was at home.

Alex bumped your hip with his, and you nearly melted. He said it quietly, and you knew the others wouldn't be able to hear it. "Do you think he's ever going to let go of her?" You looked at John, who was cracking an egg with his hand on Camille's waist.

A giggle bubbled up out of your mouth, and suddenly it was as if the tension had never been there at all. You looked at Alex with bright eyes, heart fluttering a little. It was him. You'd forgotten your best friend somehow, and as you watched him start to laugh with you, you realized you never wanted to again.

"If he lets go it's cause he's kissing her," you whispered back, and he grinned.

"Should we try it?" When you raised your eyebrows, he flushed and clarified, "I meant baking with one hand."

You gave him a daring look. "We might have to scrape char off our cookies."

"Worth it," he said, and you giggled again, the pieces of you and him falling back into place.

"Let's do it," you decided, holding up your arm. As if reading your mind, he linked his own through it, and you turned back to the ingredients, trying to ignore the press of his elbow to yours.

Reaching for the vanilla, you set the appropriate teaspoon on the counter, methodically uncapping the bottle with your one free hand and pouring carefully, only spilling a few drops on the counter. Next to you, Alex was struggling with the sugar, dipping the measuring cup into the container and trying to delicately shake it so there wasn't too much on top.

"Having trouble?" you giggled, watching him spill for the third time.

"I'm not using my dominant hand," he pointed out, and you squeezed his forearm without thinking, eyes glued to his labored movements. "But I think I've got- there!" It wasn't perfect, but there wasn't as much overfill. He poured it in, and you did the same with your vanilla.

As you struggled to effectively add ingredients, laughing at the missteps, you felt lighter than you had in a long time. Being here with him somehow erased the worry that had plagued you lately, over being home and feeling like a stranger looking through a window to your family.

He'd been that way for you in college too. Always over to study or make dinner, your home away from home. You'd been so nervous about missing Linfield, but he had been everything good about it. It was glaring at you in neon letters. If what you had before was a dying flower, with a single bump of his hip it was nourished back to life.

Sliding your first sheet of cookies into the oven, one of each of your hands on either side, you found your mind bubbling up with a million things you wanted to say to him. You thought of all the times you'd picked up your phone to send a picture of something wild you saw in the city to him, every time all you'd wanted to do was call and hear his voice.

You'd missed him. More than you'd thought.

Alex set the timer and nudged you gently with his elbow. "We're each gonna need one oven mitt."

Your heart fluttered again. He smiled at you. On the other side of the counter, your parents, Camille, and John burst into laughter.

"Oh yeah, the power went out and when we opened the fridge, water came out."

"I really thought that snow was gonna make it to July."

Alex laughed, tilting his head and stretching his legs out on the couch, underneath your bent ones. You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, giggling. He set his mug down on the coffee table. "Do you get much snow in Seattle?"

"A bit," you said, tilting your head to rest on the couch. "Not near as much as here. Or maybe it feels different because it's in the city."

The tree was twinkling in the corner of the room, and the TV was on, playing your favorite Christmas movie. Ever since cookie night, you'd spent a lot of time together like this- binging Christmas movies and gorging on chocolate, conversation wandering aimlessly. If you weren't doing that, you were traipsing behind your family at whichever activity you were at. Sledding, shopping, caroling. You began to know him again.

At first it'd been a little more formal. You'd sat further apart, shoulders barely touching. It had only taken a day or so for you to fall back into your old habits. It felt as though all was right with the world after that.

You'd just gotten home from another tradition- driving around to see the lights. There hadn't been enough room in your parents' car for all of you, so you and Alex drove separately.

It turned out to be fun- the two of you laughing and watching the lights blink in time to a radio station. When you shivered, he had immediately started to fiddle with the vents, taking your hand in his and blowing warm air. The gesture made you smile.

The two of you had bailed long before everyone else, deciding to head home and warm up. You made peppermint hot chocolate and he found the movie, getting out blankets and turning the fireplace on.

When you came over with matching mugs, he'd held out his arm, the space against his chest inviting and warm. Without a second thought, you'd positioned yourself close, tucking yourself into him. He was always so cozy to lay against, several nights from college evidence.

"I've missed this," he mumbled, and you smiled at that, scratching your fingers on his chest.

"I've missed it too." You nuzzled into his shoulder and he smiled, chin on your head. "I wish I could take it with me."

He was quiet for a moment, fingers drawing patterns on your arm. You were about to ask something else when he said, "You were brave to do it, you know? To get out."

"I don't know if I really left," you confessed, snuggling closer. "I spend so much time worrying about everything here."

"Yeah, I get that," he said, hand finding the top of your head and smoothing your hair. His arm rested on your shoulder, bent at the elbow. "That's what made me stay."

"There's no shame in it," you murmured, eyes on the movie as you thought. "You wanted to take care of your dad. You're doing what you love."

"It feels like I missed out sometimes," he said quietly, thumb following the line of your hair. "Everything's good here. But that's the thing. It's good. I was worrying for no reason."

Sitting up slightly, you faced him, searching his eyes. You knew every corner of him, it felt like. His ends and beginnings. His love and hate. And so you were purposeful when you said, "You know it would be okay, right? If you were to leave?" When his lips parted, you amended, "Not that staying is bad. Not at all. You did what felt right for you, but..." you searched his eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "It would be okay if you didn't want to be here forever."

There was a moment where he was just watching you, eyes soft in a way you remembered so well. He half-smiled, patting your waist. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Satisfied, you smiled and settled back against him. He adjusted his arm around you, and your sense of deja vu heightened. How many times had you laid like this with him, talking for hours about one thing or another? Breathing in and focusing again on the movie, you said, "I thought I would end up here. After everything with Camille and seeing how fragile it all was. But I left." Something tightened in your chest. "That sounds selfish."

Alex shook his head, squeezing your knee. "It's not. It's really not."

"I mean... you know what happened," you murmured. "They needed me." Your mind was spiraling now, plummeting to the depths of something you weren't able to stop. The tightness in your chest was suffocating, and you pressed your palm there. "And I left." The panic settled, and you said the last part simply. That's all it was. Simple.

Alex just watched you, his eyes solemn. You bit the side of your cheek. The way he looked at you hadn't changed one bit. His soulful eyes could pry the same secrets out of you if he wanted them to.

But he didn't push, didn't question. He just squeezed your side, pulling you back into him and letting you rest. You closed your eyes, trying not to cry. He was familiar. He was home. Alex leaned down, lips finding your hair. You laced your fingers through his, and he pulled your hand up to rest over his heart.

The feeling blanketed you like a fresh coat of snow, and you knew he was swathed in it too by the way he rubbed up and down your spine.

Footsteps. It was like your body knew something was wrong before you did. Sitting up, you turned your head to the open door, pushing away your laptop as your mother rushed by. "Mom?"

Coats sliding against each other, hangers clicking. You stood up, padding into the hallway and saying it again. "Mom?"

She looked at you briefly, seeming harried. "What?"

"Is something wrong?" Your heart began to pound, every possible scenario running through your head. Sick, dying, accident-

"Your sister," she began, and it hit you like a punch to the stomach. "She's having an episode. John has a meeting at the hospital, and he called us to go be with her until he can get back."

"An episode?" Unwanted memories had awful timing. They had been piling up all week, and you could feel them beginning to overflow. "But...she..." you swallowed. "It's been years since she's-"

"No," your mother said curtly, finally finding the coat she was looking for and pulling it out, the hanger sticking out when she closed the door. "She has them still."

Another gut punch. You watched with wide eyes as she descended the stairs, frozen even as you began to follow her. Your instincts kicked in, and you began to panic. She was rifling through her purse, expression solemn. You searched for your shoes, still reeling from this news.

"I'll be back later," she said, turning to the door.

Your eyebrows shot up and you reached for her arm, meeting her eyes. "Mom, just give me a minute and I'll be ready-"

"No, you stay here," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think it'd be a good idea if you came." Your hand fell from her elbow.

"I can help," you said in a small voice.

She sighed and smiled softly, reaching out to pat your shoulder. "It's fine. We always figure it out when you aren't here."

Only once the door shut did you realize she was gone. The chasm of your mind was eating you alive, swallowing anything you'd felt before and replacing it with something you didn't want. You could feel tears rising in your eyes, a sob in your throat, and you sniffled, bringing a hand to your face.

It was all too similar. Too close to how it was before. You thought it was all gone now. Buried because the past was dead. Maybe it was more alive than you thought.

Glimpses flickered before your eyes. You closed them, feet rooted to the spot. She didn't mean to hurt you. You knew she didn't. But it still stung, itching at your skin and reminding you of what you'd forget if you could. Someone said your name. You shifted only to find Alex in your line of sight, his eyes soft.

You collided. His arms encircled you, chin falling to your hair. A miniscule sob hitched your breath and he flattened his cheek on your head. "It's okay, it's okay..."

"She...she's..." you choked. He shook his head, smoothing his hand up and down your back.

"It's not your fault," Alex whispered into your hair, carefully herding you to the couch. You thunked beside him, leaning in close as he rubbed your side and bunched his fingers over your leg. "You were trying to help."

"They don't need me," you murmured, fresh tears springing to your eyes.

Alex was quiet, smoothing his hand over your head and rubbing his thumb to your hair. You burrowed into him and he let you, lifting his arm so you could more easily reach his chest. Shame painted you suddenly, and you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest. "I'm sorry."

"Hey-" Alex reached for you again. "No, it's okay. Let me help you."

"I shouldn't be...I'm sorry, I'm-" you took in shuddering breaths, instincts telling you to get far away from this. To let it fade into the dust where it was only kicked up every now and then.

Alex kept hold of your hand, and you were drawn to the magnet of his eyes. He shook his head just slightly. "This is what happened last time."

Last time. When you'd gone home for winter break, excited to share Christmas with him now that you were officially in love. The wreckage that had met you when you came home. Your sister always in tears, an unsolvable issue newly tagging her. The way you'd tried to help after seeing the exhaustion in your parents' eyes. They'd needed you.

Doctor's appointments. Trips to the pharmacy. Staying with Camille for hours, watching over her and making sure she remained healthy and safe. Christmas came and went without any fanfare, the best gift that she was still here.

After a troubled semester, you'd come home to rest. Instead, the weight of someone's life fell into the palm of your hand. The hole in your chest only widened, and you felt as though you were drowning. Holding three people you loved up above the water with only your hands, lucky if you got a wisp of air. The place you knew as a comfort had morphed into something entirely different, something that said you couldn't afford to be taken care of anymore. It was your time to step up. Be strong.

You'd barely seen Alex. He offered to come help, offer any kind of support. But you'd insisted he stay with his family, burning yourself to the nub by the time January came around. That was when you ended it with him.

So many tears. A million untrodden paths surrounding you. You hadn't imagined anything without him, not since you were a kid. He'd always been there and you'd loved him more than anyone and you'd ruined it.

But it was too much. You were both young and he was bright and smart and he needed to fly high. Away from where you would drag him down.

He didn't grace your apartment after that to study together or bring over dinner. You didn't spend the night at his place watching movies or tucked in his arms anymore. Time separated you. It seemed as though the story was over.

But everything you'd swept under the rug was back, holding you tight as you sank back into his arms and shed another tidal wave of tears. Alex was quiet as each one seeped into his shirt, and you nearly melted into nothing when you felt his lips in your hair.

Despite it all, he was here. He was here, and maybe he always had been. Another bout of tears overwhelmed you when you realized it had never needed to be so hard. One call for him and he would have been there, right where you needed him.

"I'm sorry," you choked, fingers finding his shirt. "I...you..."

"Shh," Alex soothed, shaking his head and rubbing your back. "I know. It wasn't your fault."

"H-having two kids with these issues is too much. I couldn't-" you got out before he pressed your face into his chest, nose squishing into your head.

"It's gonna be okay," he murmured, and you heard the hitch in his voice. Despite it, Alex snuggled you close, lightly rubbing your shoulder. It was the first time in what felt like forever that you'd believed someone when they said it.

You were content being held by him, cozy in the cradle of his arms. He used to do this often when you would have panic attacks or a particularly bad day. His arms were always open, and you hadn't thought you'd get the luxury of needing them again.

Looking up at him, you almost told him so many things. Everything you'd never said was spilling from its sealed envelope, flooding your senses with only him. Alex held your gaze, a single word falling from his lips. "Baby-"

The front doorknob rattled, breaking the moment into dust. There were footsteps on the porch, accompanied by your parents' voices. If they saw you crying...

You sprang from Alex's arms, eyes wide as you looked at him. He frowned, reaching for you again, but before he could say anything you fled to your room. Maybe in an hour you'd wash your face and return downstairs, act as though all was well.

It didn't feel right, but it was all you had. Running away and putting on a face was the one part of your past that you still clung to.

Garlands twined around the banisters, red bows on the edge of everything. You dusted your hands of glitter, tucking a strand of hair away. It had taken practically all day, from the moment you rose from bed. From the kitchen wafted the smell of appetizers, Camille's voice echoing alongside your mother's.

Your mother had apologized when she returned home, but what happened still sat heavy in your heart. Camille was fine. Apparently, she always was.

It only confirmed that you wouldn't be saying anything of your own troubles.

Alex remained at your side, nary a word of what happened escaping his lips. You loved him for it, for doing the opposite of pretending nothing happened. It was silent reassurance that you loved him more than anything for. He stood at your side, as steady as what you'd always needed.

Baby. It played in your head more often than not. When the fluttering of your past feelings had beckoned you again, you'd shooed it away, but now you wondered of their return. The way he looked at you, like you were the center of the universe- it melted your heart and shook your being.

Did he feel the same? Was it just as time-stopping for him to look at you as it was for you to look at him?

He was a ghost in your mind, in your every thought. Indeed, he was there, lingering as you dressed for the holiday party. Your hair was done, earrings on, and you were about to don the dress you always wore for this event. Black knit, with tights.

There was a knock on the door, and then your sister entered, a shopping bag dangled from her fingers. She looked beautiful as always, wearing a silk green dress with her hair pulled up. You recognized her necklace: an engagement gift from John.

"Is anything wrong?" you jumped up, eyes wide and hands going to her elbows.

She smiled fondly. "No, nothing. Nothing at all. I just wanted to give you this." Holding out the shopping bag, Camille smiled delightedly when you took it, bouncing on her heels. "To wear tonight. You'll look so pretty."

"Thank you," you said quietly, smiling back. This wasn't unlike her- to surprise you with little gifts at any time during the year. But a whole new dress was something else.

Camille sat on your bed, taking your usual black dress and folding it in her lap. "I wanted to apologize. For not telling you anything." Her smile faded. "It's silly. You...you were there for me when I needed you. You deserved to know."

"Camille-" you sat beside her, eyes nearly welling up. Taking one of her hands, you whispered, "I only want you to be okay. This whole time I've been away, I've been worrying-"

"But you shouldn't," she cut in, squeezing your hand, her eyes soft. "I'm fine. Really. Every now and then there's a bad episode, but truly for the most part I'm okay. I have John and he keeps me stable. I guess I never said anything because I thought there was nothing to say."

It was like a weight off your shoulders. You could have burst into tears as you looked at her, glowing and happy in front of you. So far from the girl she'd been before. You weren't sure how you'd failed to see it before. In all your worry and swimming in the sea of memory, the present was lost on you with everything.

With Alex.

Camille gave you a fond look. "I do hope you'll wear the dress tonight. It'll be so pretty and..." She said her next words with a secret smile. "...and Alex will like it."

"Alex?" You lifted your head, nearly panicking. "He doesn't-"

"He does, trust me." Camille tapped her nose with a sweet grin. "Just wear the dress and see what happens."

Almost like a fairy, she was gone in an instant, in a whirl of dark green. You stared at the door after she left, only remembering the dress a few moments later. Plucking the tissue paper from the bag, you reached in and lifted a silky red dress with thin straps and a bow in the middle from the bottom.

It was so pretty- definitely something she would have picked out. But inexplicably you at the same time. You noticed she'd snipped off the price tag but left the brand name. Classic Camille.

It was perfect when you tried it on, soft and well fitted. Your jewelry even matched it well. You stared at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your hair accordingly and garnering the courage to step outside your room in it. All you could think of was Alex's reaction. If Camille was right...what if she was right?

Biting your lip, you played with your skirt for a moment, lost in thought. Had you really been so lost in mending the past to focus on the future? Alex was something you thought you'd left behind, but really...maybe he was standing right in front of you, ready to be your future.

Maybe all the hurt, the pain, the damage had led you to this.

Your heart raced, only one thing in your mind. It was him, always him. When he'd held you through your tears and smiled so softly when you leaned into his chest during a movie. When he'd stroked your hair and told you it was going to be okay. Fingers twitching, you yearned for him under them, for the warmth of his skin. He'd started to hold you again so eagerly, and you'd thought it the feelings of old friends.

What once was love lost was at your fingertips again. You weren't sure if you should hold tight or run the other way.

The party filled up quickly, the noise drifting into your room and beckoning you down. It was sure to be shoulder to shoulder, and you weren't sure if you would even see Alex for the evening. Cautiously, you descended the stairs, immediately greeted by a barrage of neighbors asking about life in another place.

You answered their questions with a smile, feeling as though you were giving the same answer over and over again. Yes, you liked your job. No, you weren't moving back. The weather is rainy, but lovely, and you are living in a nice place. Every year you marveled at how many people your parents knew, doubly at how that number seemed to grow by the month.

Finally, you were able to make your way to the refreshments, taking a glass of water and practically pouring it down your throat. Though it was chilly outside, the heat inside multiplied by the amount of people was nearly suffocating. You moved closer to the window, hoping the cool glass would give you enough strength to dive back into greeting the other guests.

Camille brushed by you with a wink and a squeeze to your arm. You smiled at her, gratitude filling you up all over again. For the sister you had. For the way she'd grown. You watched as she gravitated towards John, meeting his open arms and smiling as he brushed a kiss to her forehead, whispering something. She nodded, looking up at him so lovingly it could have stopped time. The way he looked back, you wouldn't be surprised if it did for him.

Turning back to the window, you were startled to see Alex on the porch bench, staring at the horizon. Maybe you weren't surprised he was playing the avoidance game at a crowded function, but it felt alarming for you to be able to see exactly who you wanted to at the very moment you wanted him.

Almost fairy-like, you glided outside, drawn to him in such a familiar way. You were numb to the bite in the air as you sat beside him, watching the sun sink into the hills like the space between two fingers. The sky was smeared with pink and orange and blue- a popsicle melting into itself.

When he looked at you, butterflies sprung from their cocoons in your stomach, flittering around and spelling words you couldn't read yet. His smile was soft. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, watching the misty evidence of your voice evaporate in the air. "Are you?"

Alex nodded, seeming to search you. You shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold, and his eyebrows lifted. "I..." he looked down at himself. "I'd give you my jacket if I had one."

“No need,” you said, still sweating from being inside. Alex disregarded your statement, sliding his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his sweater covered chest. He was always so warm. Even though you weren't in need of it, it was comforting, and so you stayed.

A moment passed between you, still and unmarked. The street was quiet save for the sounds of the party inside, and your eyes fell to the snow caked at the sides of the road, pushed up to the sidewalk by tires. Breathing out, you watched the motion puff in the frozen air.

Alex’s thumb drew circles on your shoulder. He exhaled softly. “I like your dress.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. “Camille gave it to me.”

Silence again. Then he asked, sounding a little hesitant. “She’s doing alright?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, eyes on your knees, fidgeting with your fingers. “Yeah. I guess this kind of thing happens a lot.”

“And they didn’t tell you?” You didn’t need to look up to know his brow was furrowed.

You shook your head slowly. “No.”

His thumb stopped its motion, and you risked a look up at him. For once, his eyes were not laser focused on you, instead burning a hole in the porch. Sitting up, you tried to meet his eyes. “But I understand why.”

“Why?” His head turned so quickly you were stunned, lost in his face for a moment. 

Collecting yourself, you spoke slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “They didn’t need me.” Alex started to say something, but you shook your head. “They didn’t need me. And that’s okay.”

He watched your eyes, expression soft. Your heart jumped with every glance, and now it was spurring you toward something you didn’t know if you would have confessed fifteen minutes ago. “Sometimes I think I’m tired of learning about myself. It’s like…I’m an adult. I should know these things.” Swallowing, you closed your eyes for a second, mind moving quicker than you could keep up with. “I thought I knew what had happened with Camille. I thought I knew what happened with you and me and I thought I knew how I felt but…” you trailed off for a moment, lips parting as you searched him. “Alex I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you.”

With your new discovery, you expected it to feel different. But he was the same Alex, the same heartbeat under you. With the way you'd tried to leave your past, maybe you'd made it all out to change. But when he said your name, it was just as intoxicating as before. There were some things you could leave behind, but others you found yourself determined to hold onto.

Alex said your name again, his voice nearly caressing the word. He looked so pretty in this light, with the sun waving goodbye and the moon turning its face. You clocked his hand on your knee, and then he was talking again. “When I moved back, I think a part of me expected it to be the way it was before. But it couldn’t have been.” You swore your heart stopped for a moment. “It didn’t have you. I never stopped loving you either.”

With a little gasp, you were reaching for him, and he pulled you closer somehow. A tear escaped your eye, and you leaned forward, throwing your arms around his neck. He held you for a long moment, and then you murmured into his chest, "I didn't know what I was missing so badly until I was with you again."

"Baby," he muttered, and you drew back, bringing your mouth to his in a swift motion. Alex held you to him through the chill, his hand at your back as he kissed you tenderly. It was home. He was not only your past, he was the future you'd dreamed of with only hazy figures that now seemed clearer.

"I ran away before and it was the wrong thing to do," you whispered, and he thumbed your cheek, nose nudging it. “I should have stayed-”

"And I stayed in all the wrong places when I should have stayed with you,” he said back, and you pressed your mouth to his again, a long kiss burning your insides in the most pleasant way. You leaned into him, suddenly cold, suddenly glad he was so warm.

Any minute now, you were expecting to wake up in a cold sweat, disturbed by what could have been and what you wished would happen. But he was still in front of you, chin resting on your head as he

"I don't care if we have to play phone tag every day forever once I go back home," you murmured, snug against his chest as he covered the bare portion of your back with his hand. "I'm not letting you go ever again."

His fingers froze, and you frowned, lifting your head. Alex's lips were parted, and he looked as though he were holding something back. Your brow knit, and you sat up, half in his lap. "What is it?" Worry flooded you, and suddenly you were worried you were about to wake up. A million possibilities flooded your mind, each one worse than the last.

Alex was frozen for a few seconds, and then his eyes found yours again. You braced yourself for whatever he was about to tell you, stiffening in his hold. But nothing could have prepared you for what he said.

"I'm moving at the end of the school year."

Your mind blanked, and "What?" fell out of your mouth before you could regulate it. He was serious- you could see it. Alex would never joke about something like this.

He lifted his hand to your cheek, brushing away a strand of hair, the action seeming to ground him. "The job offer was confirmed this morning. I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you ever since."

"Where is it?" You had a million other questions, but this one made it out first.

"Seattle."

For the millionth time since you came outside, you were speechless. His hand was still on your cheek, and you leaned into it, blinking up at him in utter disbelief. "You...you..."

"I've been thinking about leaving for months," he said quietly, eyes steady on you as he spoke. Though the sounds of Frank Sinatra's Christmas hits were still emanating from the house, your ears were tuned into the sound of his voice. "I started looking, doing remote interviews. All the while I was telling myself that I could say no even if I got it. And then an opening came up where I knew you lived and I thought maybe..."

Alex Nilsen had never been one to do something out of the blue. He was meticulous and you loved him for it. You knew how comfortable he was in your shared hometown, how much being near his family meant to him. Even the idea of him thinking about leaving was indictive of something deeper than you could imagine.

"I accepted it," he confirmed, thumb still rubbing your cheek. "I'll start in the fall."

Emotions were running wild as you stared at this man who'd just proved he'd move mountains for even a chance at being with you. You'd loved each other your entire lives, but even then, you didn't think it ran so pure.

"You're leaving everything behind," you whispered, reaching up to hold his wrist. "How do you know it's going to work out?"

"My dad is fine. My brothers are fine," Alex said, and the way he looked at you nearly made the world stop spinning. "And I've never been sure about anything in my life, but I'm sure about this."

"We've only just reconnected this week," you said softly. "I don't want you to do this just for me. What if you regret it someday?"

"It was something you said to me that pushed me to take the job," he said gently, his other hand rising to your face. "You said that it would be okay if I didn't want to be here forever. And it made me realize that maybe I never have." Taking in a breath, Alex leaned in and kissed you so softly that you nearly melted. "I've loved you as long as I've known you. I would regret it if I didn't do this."

Now you were sure you were dreaming. It was so unexpected but so utterly him. To be so sure.

The holidays would pass. You would unwrap presents with him on Christmas morning and kiss him on New Year's. You would part in tears at the airport but with the knowledge that you would see him again as soon as possible. The future laid ahead with bright lights, winking and telling you it was going to be okay. Your past and future merged together to create now and it was wonderful because it was with him.

Nostalgia had led you back home. To a love you had thought past, but you knew would stay.

Even as you left, you would stay.

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[7amonathursdayinoctober]

My bitchass cat- 80 ft up in a goddamn tree

It has been a day

[deeisace]

..

[elisedonut]

fuck i'm actually going to end up enjoying Sevpercy huh

maybe in a picky I like them when they are in my head or when I do it kind of way

or in a time travel way because when it comes to Snape I like his teenage self a lot more than his adult self

[tunedtostatic]

[Additional Image Description: On a grey background, there are five small black line art illustrations lined up across the center. The first is a sword with a hooked blade pointing upwards, the second is a hand with magic curling up out of it, the center is a castle with wavy lines extending from it into a dark sky, the third is a beaker with steam curling up from it, and the last is a shortsword pointing downwards. The sword has a few dark red shading lines. In the lower right corner of the fanmix cover is the title, "heart of my own," in dark red medieval calligraphy font. End Additional Image Description.]

HEART OF MY OWN - A FANMIX FOR CASSANDRA DE ROLO IN THE TIME OF THE BRIARWOODS

Overgrown - machineheart // Edge of the World - Within Temptation // Ashes and Rust - Wynnie Stone // Take Me Home - The Paper Kites, Nadia Reid // Nobody (Live) - The Crane Wives // The Tangled Tree - Josienne Clarke and Ben Walker // Heart Of My Own - Basia Bulat // Don't She Run - I Draw Slow // Murder City - Abigail Lapell // Until the Fire - Ladytron // Control - Halsey // Lament - Mount Moriah // Catch the Light - Haroula Rose

Fanmix on YouTube

Fanmix on Spotify

[bubaboos]

i have a lot of things to do so of course i went to see the banshees of inisherin instead

[medicinemane]

.