#I have squeak and my other childhood toys for the boys drawn out

[carrots-bear]

Lost & Found (February prompts)

By Bear | Started/Finished - 2/1/25

Rottmnt turtle-tot fic

“Waaaaappphhhh!!!!!” Mikey running as he wailed to his brother, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Mikey! What happened? Were Lee and Don making you watch Dad’s tv shows again? Grrrr, they better stop doin’ that er they’re gonna be in trouble,” Raph asked, assuming that the twins were being their disastrous selves and pushing the youngest of them all to do things he shouldn’t.

“N-n-no.” Mikey paused to sniff. “I-I-I— t-t-to-today— w-w-wew¹, I w-was cowewing² wiff Squeak, an-an-an’… an’ t-then I w-went t-to-to p-pway Wou J-J-Jitsu wiff-f Wee an’ D-Dee-Dee, an’ w-when I w-w-went t-to g-get Squ-Squ-Squea-ea-eak—“ Mikey’s voice wobbled as he broke off again. He hiccuped and whined, hugging his big brother all the while, until he could continue his story— with some coaxing from Raph.

“C’mon, bud. Tell Raph an’ then he’ll help ya,” Raph comforted, rubbing his baby bro’s shell.

Mikey took a deep breath before continuing. “I w-went t-t-t-to ask Squea-eak if h-he wan-want-wanted to-o p-way— pwwwa- plllllaayyy W-W-Wou J-Jitsu-u wiff Weo an’ D-Donnie, b-b-but t-then-n-n I c-c-c-couldn’t-n’t-n’t f-fin-d-d h-h-him!” The little box turtle broke down again, crying as if someone had told him they’d killed a puppy.

“Well, where were you colorin’ with Squeak?”, Raph asked, remembering what his dad had taught him when he was Mikey’s age: back-track.

“W-w-we were in-n my woo-woo-woom,” Mikey stuttered with a trembling lip.

“Alright! Mike, get Donnie and Leo. We’ve got a do-phin³ to find!”, Raph ordered encouragingly.

“Okay!”, Mikey nodded, a smile emerging from his tearful face as his small tail began to wag. He dashed off, calling his older brother’s names. “LLLLLLLLLEEEEOOOO! DEEEEE-DEEEEEEE! WHEWE AWE YOOOOOUUUUUU!?”

Meanwhile, Raph dashed off to Mikey’s bed-room in hopes that /he/ might be able to find the tie-dye plush. “Hmmmm. If I was Mikey, where could I put Squeak?”

“You mean, ‘where /would/ I put Squeak’?”, Donnie offered, announcing the entrance of Raph’s brothers.

“Sure,” Raph waved him off. “Okay boys. This is a crime scene. It’s either a runaway, or a kidnapping.”

Mikey gasped, bringing his small hands up to his mouth. “No…” he whispered.

“So, we look everywhere!”, was Leo’s conclusion.

“But it’s a crime scene; you disturb no ebby-dense at the scene of a crime,” Donnie argued.

“Oh, yeah. That’s what all Dad’s soap oper’s say, anywhizz,” Leo thought with a nod.

“Soap opera,” Donnie corrected again.

“Nerd.”

“Dum-dum.”

“Guys! Stop! Mikey lost Squeak, and now /we all/ have to find him!”, Raph interrupted, putting his arms between the two.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We’ll look in here first, and then if we can’t find him, we’ll go to different rooms by ourselfff-sss until we fins him. And if /we/ can’t find Squeak, than we can ask Pops to help us! Got that?”, Raph asked as he looked around at his little bros. They nodded, all looking determined to find Mikey’s favorite toy.

“Hands in bros! Three, two, one, TURTLE POWER!!!!”, Raph began; all four shouted at the end, making silent, innocent promises that Squeak would be found.

Raph dashed to look under the make-shift dresser. Nothin’. He checked the drawers, all three, from top to bottom! Still no sign of Squeak. He walked over to the colorful pieces of paper and crayons.

Leo, Mikey, and Donnie approached Raph at the same time. “We looked everywhere we could think of. None of us found nothing,” Leo reported solemnly.

“Hm. Okay. Donnie, search the tv room. Leo, look in your room. Mikey, look in Dee’s room—“

“Why can’t I look in my own room?”, Donnie protested, stomping his foot.

“Because Mikey isn’t allowed to watch a lot of the stuff dad watches. Also, you’re the only one who doesn’t get completely ‘stracted from the tv,” Raph reasoned.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Donnie agreed, eye-ridges knit together in thought.

“I’ll look for Squeak in my room. Turtles, let’s roll out!”, Raph finished.

They all ran to their assigned rooms, making quick and thorough work of the search. Raph first looked at where he was sitting before he went to the kitchen to make lunch for the five Hamatos. He knew that his dad could get food for himself, but he didn’t get up much anymore, so Raph decided that he would make lunch for his dad to be extra responsible.

Raph looked under his blankets, and then his pillow, and then his mattress. He checked under the rug, in his own amassing pile of plush toys.

He checked his school corner, and craft corner, which was full of yarn at the moment, cakey and scavenged threafd fraying, as he was trying to teach himself how to crochet, or knit, or whatever it was called. He was using a discarded, muddled up kit manual to learn the craft.

Raph was getting sidetracked. Now’s the time to focus. Raph won’t rest until we find Squeak.

Well, maybe Raph’ll rest. How can I be able to look if I’m too sleepy to open my eyes! the reasonable voice in Raph’s head mentioned.

Anyways, Raph even checked his own dresser like he did with Mikey’s— and still nothing! “Well, I looked everywhere in here I can think of. I’ll check on Donnie’s room.”

Raph walked in to find Mikey trying to peek somewhere he couldn’t reach much less see. “Here, let me help,” Raph offered, scooping his youngest brother up and onto his shoulders.

“Woah! Waphie! You scawed me!”, Mikey exclaimed.

“Sorry, Mikey! Look at the top now. You can see more from up there,” Raph apologized.

“Wow! I’m the king of the woooowwwwwwwwwlllllllddddd!!!!!!”, Mikey cheered. Raph felt him lean forwards. “I can’t see him.”

“Did you look everywhere in here yet?”

“No— um, yes, um, I don’ know.”

“Okay. Did you look under the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you look on top of the bed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you under the rug?”

“Yes.”

And it continued like that for about two minutes, in the time of which Leo and Donnie walked in, both empty-handed, waited for approximately ten seconds, and then looked for Squeak on their own. However, both Leo and Donnie came fruitless of their labor again.

“Squeak isn’t in either of our rooms,” Leo interrupted, pointing to Donnie and himself.

“How do you know that?”, Raph asked suspiciously.

“Because I looked in my room. And Dee-Dee and I looked in here while you and Mikey were talking,” Leo explained.

“Oh. Okay,” Raph accepted easily, Mikey not leaving his shoulders. “Let’s check the kitchen.”

The four headed off again, determined to finish their mission. They looked everywhere they could. The cabinets, the counter, the oven— everywhere! But the beloved dolphin was nowhere to be seen.

“I’ll never see Squeak ever again!”, Mikey screamed before crying loudly. It was enough to get Splinter to come in and wonder what the matter was— or he was just getting hungry because it was a bit past his lunchtime.

“Orange! What is the matter, my son?”, he asked, crouching down to scoop the smallest brother into his arms.

Mikey could only hiccup and wail, and Donnie could only cover his ears, and Raph wasn’t fast enough, so Leo answered for the youngest: “He lost Squeaky, and we looked everywhere, but we can’t find him!”

Splinter tsked and shook his head. “A lost Squeaky? Well, we can’t have that, can we? Hmmm, let’s see.” Splinter swiveled his head around, his eyes searching for an orange dolphin toy. Mikey was sniffing and hiccuping in Splinters arms still, though he had calmed down quite a bit.

“Dad, we already told you that we looked everywhere! Squeaky isn’t—“ Raph tried to explain. However, he was interrupted by his father.

“Non-sense! Squeaky is right there on the counter, see?”, Splinter pointed. Though the three eldest turtles could not believe it, there he was! Squeaky the Dolphin! In the flesh!— um, fluff?

Raph, Donnie, and Leo’s jaws dropped, but Mikey gasped, and then squealed. “Eeeeeeee!!!!!! Daddy, you find-ed him! You find-ed Squeaky!” He squirmed out of his father’s arms and ran towards the stuffed animal that was just larger than his head. He snatched it from the counter and hugged it tight. “Oh, Squeaky! I’ww nevew wose you again! I pwomise!”

“Now we can play Lou Jitsu!”, Leo cheered.

“Yeah!”, Mikey joined his red-eared brother.

The two ran off, Donnie not far behind in his oversized hoodie. Raph hesitated, but Splinter grunted and smiled. “Thank you for helping your brother, my Red. Go play; I will prepare lunch.”

“Thanks, Pops!”, Raph grinned and then ran off to join his brothers in a fun game of pretend.

—————Nine Years Later—————

“Aha! Found ya! I’m glad you made it through the Shredder’s attack, how ‘bout it buddy?”, Mikey spoke gently to the battered old dolphin plush as if he had seen everything that had happened to their childhood home.

“Mikey! It won’t hold for much longer! Hurry up!”, he heard Donnie call from the safest exit of their now-unrecognizable home.

“Coming!”, he called back. “We’re going to a new home now…… I’m glad I didn’t lose ya, Squeak. I’m glad I found you again.”

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

It was gonna be a fun silly little thing but then I decided that I'd add some angst at the end :^ bc why not >:]

I'm late for this, but that's okay. I'll try to get today's written today :D

I'm going to assume that most people can understand toddler when put to print, so I just included a few translations below

Prompt by @monthlywritingchallenges

-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-=_=-

Footnotes:

1.) Five y.o. for "well"

2.) Five y.o. for "coloring"

3.) Pronounced as "dough-fin"

[must-be-brooklyn]

ok that’s way too cute?? can we have a fic were javid actually meet their son/daughter?

Ohhhh man I’m sorry this is late but??? I hope you enjoy?!?!! 

And this is a link to the debatably-a-prequel if you want to read it!!

Ship: Javid

Words: 1.9k

Era: Modern au

The green vinyl was scratchy under David’s legs. Lumpy cushion, too-straight backrest, uneven legs. Nothing about it was comfortable, but even the picked-apart armrests could not distract him from the way his heart hammered within his chest, as if it was trying to escape and run away.

He wrung his hands together in his lap, twisting his fingers and picking at the skin as he did his best to keep a straight face. He wanted to make a good impression. He hadto make a good impression. The little boy they had matched with, Alex, had to like them if this was going to go any further.

David’s stomach dropped as he thought about it. Since they had received their match telephone call the previous week, David had been switching between being scared out of his mind and so ready for this opportunity that he could not even put words together; needless to say, it had not been the most productive week at work he had ever had.

Now, sitting on this hard, vinyl covered chair, he just felt sick. The little room they had been asked to wait in was empty aside from them, aside from a few extra chairs and the copious numbers of posters plastered to the walls. David scanned them, trying to distract himself.

“You okay?” Jack’s voice was low as he reached to grab onto David’s balled fists with one of his hands.

David nodded stiffly and looked down at their hands. “Just nervous.” He looked up at Jack and tried to give him a smile.

This was the chance they had been waiting for. It had been almost two years since they had first started looking at adoption and after all of the police checks, interviews, statements from friends and family and questionnaires, they were finally a mere few months away from adopting four-year-old Alex.

As long as the first meeting went well.

Of course, they had been briefed on Alex’s history. They knew about his father’s death, his mother’s descent into medically declared inability to care for him and her institutionalisation, his extended family’s refusal to even meet with him. It was not only the bad things, though. Long meetings had also let them know about his love of stories, fondness for drawing and adoration of cuddly toys

In those meetings, it had almost seemed as though Alex would be almost as perfect of a match as they could get. In reality, David knew it would be very different. Paper and ink could never fully portray a person.

And now, there were separated from Alex by a mere few walls. His emergency foster placement parents were with him, David knew that, but if this meeting went well, they would start integrating him into their house soon enough.

Jack squeezed David’s hands and his own chair squeaked as he leaned across to press a gentle kiss to David’s cheek. “It’s gonna be fine,” he said. David lent into the touch and smiled. He could hear the nerves in Jack’s voice, too.

“Of course, it is,” he agreed, bouncing his knees a little. He grinned at Jack. “We’ve totally got this.”

The door that led into the waiting room opened, and a woman with a folder under her arm stepped inside her gait relaxed. “Gentlemen,” she said, taking a seat. “It’s good to see you. Excited?”

“Mira,” David said in lieu of a greeting, “It’s nice to see you, too.” He heard the tremble in his own voice and winced at it.

Laughing a little, Mira placed the manila folder on her lap and opened it. There were only a few sheets of paper inside, all paperclipped into various groups. Passing one of the sections to Jack and David, she took another one out for herself.

“Well, Alex is ready to meet you,” she said, “We just need you to sign another form before you head in.” She launched into an explanation of the form, but David found it hard to focus. The nausea was intensifying. He was numb as he signed the paper.

Mira scanned over their names quickly and then nodded in satisfaction. “Well, all looks good. Now, Alex’s emergency placement family is with him at the moment. We’re planning to leave them in there, at least at the state. If it all goes well, though, we’ll take them out and leave you alone with a supervisor, just so that we can monitor how we think everything is going.”

“Sounds good,” Jack said. He stood up and nudged David, too. Their hands never separated as they followed Mira down the corridor to a new room.

She turned to them before she knocked on the door. “Ready?”

David nodded and saw Jack doing the same out of the corner of his eye. “As we’ll ever be,” he heard Jack say.

His heart was in his throat as he leant closer to Jack. It was a surreal feeling; beyond the door, their life was potentially a minute away from changing forever. And, oddly, David suddenly felt ready for that. He was hyper-aware of everything going on around him and beyond terrified, but there was an unfamiliar excitement lurking somewhere within him, too.

Glancing at Jack, he could see a similar look in his eyes, too. David pecked him on the cheek was Mira knocked. “This is going to be everything we hoped for,” he whispered into Jack’s ear. The words were gone as soon as he said them, but he saw Jack’s face brighten a little more.

The door opened and David’s insides felt as through they dropped down to the basement. The sole reason he managed to walk inside was his body running on autopilot. Jack’s fingers, pressing steady rhythms into his palms, grounded him, but the smile that grew on his face was completely genuine as he knelt before Alex.

“Hey, Alex,” Jack said. He was sitting cross-legged next to David. “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Jack.” He spoke slowly and very deliberately, but he grinned the whole time.

Alex regarded him with caution but managed a small wave. The stuffed rabbit in his lap was drawn tighter his chest and he threw a look back at the adults behind him. David looked in their direction too; a couple, presumably Alex’s foster family, Mira, and a young man, who David supposed was the psych evaluator who made sure everything went smoothly.

David turned his attention back to Alex and looked into his dark eyes. “I’m David,” he said gently, “I’m really excited to meet you today.” Alex looked down at the ground and his hands knotted themselves into the faux fur of the rabbit.

Wiggling a little closer, Jack leant towards Alex. “Who’s this?” Jack asked, gesturing towards the toy, “Does he have a name?”

Alex looked at him and then gave a small nod.

“Can you tell us what he’s called?” David asked, catching onto Jack’s strategy.

One thing that they had never been briefed on was what to say in the first meeting. All evidence and advice pointed to the obvious; introduce yourself, be on your child’s level, be friendly, be understanding, don’t overwhelm them with too many questions at once. But what those questions were or could be had never been specified to them.

It was like walking blind. David had no idea what he was doing, but there was some sort of adrenalin driving him forwards. He, too, shifted himself a little to form something of a tiny circle with Jack and Alex.

“Flopsy,” Alex whispered. He rubbed the ear of the rabbit against his cheek.

David’s chest felt like it was about to explode with happiness and relief. They had an answer. That was more than they had been warned they might be able to expect.

“Flopsy, huh?” Jack said, “That’s a really good name. Why did you choose it?” He glanced at David and his eyes were glistening, face alight.

Alex gave a small shrug, movement muffled by the way he hugged Flopsy to himself. “Mama read it once in a book.”

“Was it a good book?” David asked quickly. One thing they had been warned away from was talking too much about Alex’s past in the first session. To bring up childhood trauma in the first session never made for a good first impression, or so they had been told.

Nodding, Alex did not look at either of them. “Like Peter more, though.”

“I like the story, too.” David tried to make eye contact with Alex again and gave him a bright smile. “Actually, I think Jack and I have the book at home. Maybe, if we see you again, we can bring it along and read it with you. Would that be okay?”

For the first time, David thought he could see a little shimmer of happiness in Alex’s eyes as he glanced between him and Jack, nodding quickly.

David lost track of time after that. The conversation was not easy, and there was no denying that Alex was very quiet, but it felt right. His stomach did flips, and his cheeks ached from smiling so much.

By the time they were waving goodbye to Alex with promises of reading Peter Rabbit with him the next time they met, David was dizzy with a combination of relief, exhilaration and joy. He could not put words together to explain what was going through his mind, but hugging Jack as they stepped out of the room, he knew they felt the exact same way.

Mira’s debrief followed in a giddy haze and the psychologist’s approval left David feeling as though he could have flown. He itched for a moment alone with Jack; he was not sure whether he wanted to scream, cry or laugh, but it felt like a combination of all three as he buzzed, waiting for the others to leave.

As soon as their little waiting room was empty again with an offhand agreement that they could have a few minutes in private, Jack turned to him.

“God, that was amazin’,” Jack said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He grasped David’s hands and shook them up and down. “Davey, that was so, so brilliant!” Launching himself forward, he grasped David around the waist and kissed him on the lips.

David smiled into the kiss and hugged him back, clutching him as tightly as he could. “We might have a kid soon,” he whispered, pulling away from Jack for a moment and extracting himself from his grip. His face blanked and his heart raced. “Oh, my God, Jack, we might have a kid soon!” He laughed in disbelief and kissed Jack again.

“I love you so, so much,” Jack said, hands cupping either side of David’s face, “And I can’t wait to have a kid with you.” He looked up at the ceiling and David could see the tell-tale signs of tears in his eyes. “Fuck, Davey, we’re gonna be parents.”

A small noise escaped David that he could not have put a name to. “Yeah, Jacky, we’re going to be parents.” He grinned at Jack and gave him another, short peck. “And, I’m so glad that I’m doing it with you.”

People, Beatrix Potter and Pooh Bear made up my childhood so no you cannot stop me from inserting at least one of them into any kidfic I write ever 

[wordsturnintostories]

Oops.

Kim Seokjin | Min Yoongi | Jung Hoseok | Kim Namjoon | Park Jimin | Kim Taehyung | Jeon Jungkook

Masterlist

Summary: A oneshot for each member of Bangtan Seonyeondan. Jung Hoseok, your boyfriend, doesn't know you're a shifter but then you accidentally spill your secret... Word Count: 1,631 Author’s Note: Just realized how much Jungkook there is in this one. I apologize for that. I struggled a little with this particular oneshot. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think! :) Lol right now we have a major blackout at home so I gotta post as long as the wifi is up. 

Jung Hoseok (feat. Jeon Jungkook & special guest)

Everything is prepared when the doorbell finally rings. Just as promised, Jungkook stands in front of your door with his new puppy on a leash. “Come in, let me take your jacket. Your timing is perfect, we just finished cooking. Hobi is changing his shirt right now, he got sauce on it but he’ll be here in a sec,” you say and hug the younger boy who still blushes a little at the close contact, bless his soul. “It’s good to see you again,” he replies, “It smells amazing.” You’re already busy checking out Jungkook’s puppy. “Aw, you got a cutie here. Hi, what’s your name, sweetie?” “His name is Jack Sparrow? No kidding?” “Captain Jack Sparrow.” You burst into laughter. It fits. The puppy is obviously a troublemaker with the way he looks around the room and scrunches his nose and ears. You can tell. Hoseok comes back, with a fresh shirt. “What’s so funny?” he says while pulling the maknae into a big hug before letting his hand sneak around your waist. “Jack Sparrow, he really named him Jack Sparrow.” “See, I told you, I’m the best namegiver. As for our four-” “Yeah, I won’t let you anywhere near my children’s birth certificates.” “Yah,” Hoseok says, playfully offended and is close to saying something but then his eyes fall on Jungkook, who’s watching. Hoseok keeps it to himself but you know he’ll tell you later, under your shared blanket, with his lips pressed against your ears, or maybe your throat. You’ll see. “Let’s eat,” he says instead. As soon as you’re all settled, even Jack Sparrow with his own food, everyone eases into conversation, happy to exchange news and jokes and stories. It was a good idea to invite Jungkook to your apartment, especially given that all the boys still live together. Hoseok is your boyfriend and insists all the boys should get to know you because both of you take your relationship seriously and you both want it to last a long time. So Jungkook, like all the other members, does his best to get to know you and get along with you and while that’s not a feat to begin with, the combined efforts from both sides are paying off. The boys always enjoy your company and you love spending time with them. Hoseok is so proud of you. And just like you had been welcomed to the family, his affectionate heart wants to welcome the new puppy to the family. Said puppy already getting there on its own, sniffing your ankles. You can tell Jack Sparrow knows something is up. He can smell you. Being a dog shifter, scent communication is definitely a given. Every dog in the radius of a mile can pick up your scent just like you can with pick up theirs. And that scent of yours was exactly what is confusing the hell out of this little one. He nips your calves like he would with an adult dog. It’s gentle but reminds you of your own childhood, when you had still been a puppy yourself. “Jack Sparrow is getting restless. I’ll check if we’ve still got some of Micky’s toys on our room.” Hoseok nods and you ignore Jungkook, who yells “Captain! Captain Jack Sparrow!”. When the puppy nips you again, so impatient to play, you growl at him softly. Wait. As your hands dig through drawers and drawers and still come up with nothing, the puppy lunges at you in a play attack. He’s bored and has way too much energy and you’re the only other dog around, and the older one at that, so it seems only logical you should entertain him. To you, it feels more like your responsibility to teach him manners. It only takes seconds to shift into your big animal form, the wolf. The puppy seems stunned. Until you nudge him with your nose. Jack rolls off, happily yipping as you chase him through the room. Like every puppy (plus Taehyung), he craves attention and wags his tail as you groom him with caring licks. Soon, his mind is set on playing again and he climbs your back like it’s a mountain. Despite your growls and your (gentle) attempts to shake him off, he clings to you enthusiastically. He’s adorable, huffing and yapping and jumping at you boldly with his bottom in the air, tail wagging. It’s only when you hear voices in the hallway that you are drawn out of your playing. With a shock, you realize a) you’re still in your wolf form, b) it’s too late to shift back. You’d be naked and while that technically isn’t an issue with Hoseok, Jungkook is here too. So you are forced to stay in your wolf form. You hide your face underneath your paws. As expected, Hoseok lets out a shriek, and steps back, closing the door. “What are you doing, hyung?” Jungkook sounds confused, “Hyung. Are you okay?” You bet Hoseok is close to fainting and his voice matches that estimation, “I- I, um, in there-“. The situation could almost be funny but the shakiness in Hoseok’s voice and scent make your skin crawl. You should hide. You should hide. Hide. He shouldn’t know. You don’t want him to be scared (of you). Hide. You whine, even when the puppy is quick to lick your snout in consolation. The door opens again and this time, Jungkook steps in. “Oh,” he says, frozen in his spot. When he’s gathered himself, he says, “where did the wolf come from? Hyung, it looks scared. I don’t think it’ll hurt us. Captain Jack Sparrow seems to like him, too.” Hoseok squeaks at the word ‘wolf’ but sticks his head in for good measure. He looks like he always does when he’s scared. Like his soul is gonna leave his body any second now. Jack Sparrow still barks and jumps around you, trying to get your spirits up as the two young men just stand there, staring at you. You give a little lick to the overexcited pup and there’s a coo coming from the door. “Jungkook-ah, can you check whether the bathroom is occupied?” “But hyung, it’s just us and- oh,” he checks, “no one in there.” Both boys automatically look at you, figuring out the pieces and coming to conclusions. The longest minute of your life. Hoseok finally comes in, probably gathering all his courage and he sits down on the floor right in front of you. “Jagiya,” he whispers, “did you turn into a wolf?” You nod, careful not to scare him accidentally. “Okay, we need to talk about that.” You open your mouth and let out a little yowl. “…later, apparently. Do you like to be petted?” Yes. Your tail wags with force. It almost catapults an unsuspecting Jack Sparrow, who was just now nipping at your tail, into the wardrobe. You throw a worried look at the complaining puppy. “Oh my God,” Jungkook laughs and Hobi can’t help but burst out in laughter too, mouth wide open. “You need to be careful. We have Namjoon and Jimin for breaking things, you shouldn’t pick up their bad habits.” You swear that wasn’t on purpose. Two licks and the pup is fine. When your teeth gently pick up the loose fur by his neck, he complains again but you carry him right into Jungkook’s arms. “Good job, Jagi,” Hoseok smiles and oh, oh, how you feel his praise sending waves of warmth through your body. You can’t contain it, want him to feel that too, and press into him fiercely, almost squishing him with your big body. You’re huge. “So, how long is this gonna last? Cause you're cool, but you shed like crazy.” Yah! You nip his ear and he looks shook. Jungkook is cackling behind you. Praise me. You lick his hand. Or pet me, that’s great too. Hoseok does, he showers you in all the love he can muster, pets you all afternoon and even taking photos for the ‘family photo albums that I will show to my children and grandchildren’. He’s a cheesy boyfriend. “Too bad,” he says, “I wanted to go picnic in the park with you guys. Now we can’t go.” Park. Another magical word. Your reaction to it is involuntary in this form, but nevertheless strong. “Wow, you’re really like a dog. I didn’t think that would get you so excited.” Park sounds awesome. You really hope Hoseok will take you somewhere you can run around. Your legs tingle, ready to go. You lick his hand, let’s goooooo. But not even his puppy eyes can get him to move. Gosh, why can’t you just talk? “Look at you,” Hoseok grins, “just like Jack Sparrow. So impatient.” Somewhere in the distance, Jungkook mumbles, “Captain Jack Sparrow.” You can’t giggle, just huff. When the maknae comes into the room, he says, “Hyung, can we really do that? What if someone sees us? With a wolf? There will be headlines for sure.” “We could say we’re dog-sitting one of the staff’s dogs…?” “You’ll need to have her on a leash. With a collar. And she’s frickin’ huge.” “He’s right,” Hoseok says with an eye on you. “Do you still want to go? I can call and ask Joon for Monie's collar and leash, maybe that fits? Jagi, you need to tell me if you’re okay with that. I don’t know what’s weird for you or not and-“ By now, you actually feel a physical need to go. It’s not like you can use a normal toilet, so you carefully bite down on Hoseok’s wrist and pull him off the sofa, gentle as a lover. Which you are. “Okiedokie,” he laughs, “The park it is. Anything to make you happy.”

Penny for your thoughts?

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Masterlist

[namjuicyy]

Three’s A Crowd - Chapter Eight

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Smut, fluff, angst if you squint.

Word Count: 4.7k.

Summary: Your childhood friend shows you a whole new world, but no one expected what came afterwards.

Warnings: fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, use of sex toys, slight degradation, traumatised Jin. 

You woke up on the morning of your five-month anniversary, with Yoongi's hand draped over your middle. His face was the first thing you saw that morning, accompanied by the sound of the birds singing in the park opposite the boys' apartment. You, by this point, had all but officially moved in with them, not that the rest of Bangtan were complaining. They were happy to have a woman around the house, something none of them had in years. You took care of them, you were the thing that kept them grounded. They barely ate instant ramen anymore, as you were very insistent they ate properly.

Jimin was awake behind you, his breath dancing on your ear and his finger tracing up and down your arm, lightly tickling you as he played with, what he thought was, your naked sleeping body.

You looked over your shoulder at his puffy face, and smiled. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Just appreciating my beautiful girlfriend." He replied. He propped himself up and gave you a sweet kiss on your cheek. He then moved down to your neck, placing kisses there, licking and sucking at the flesh.

"No, you wanted me to wake up because you're horny."

"What? Me? Never. ___, when have I ever woke anyone up for a fuck?"

"Almost every morning."

Jimin giggled. "I do have quite the boner though."

"There we go."

"Please, Angel. You don't even have to do anything. I can do all the work." His hand travelled down your body, towards your bare sex. He started playing with your clit, gently rubbing you, knowing it was sensitive enough to always welcome attention. And knowing that was the quickest way to get you wet enough for him. You involuntarily parted your legs a little, resting your one food on your other so Jimin had access to your cunt. His fingers always felt so fucking good, it didn't matter what he was doing.

He dipped inside, stretching your pussy a little. There wasn't going to be much foreplay. You didn't even think you'd get to cum, but you were clawing at his ass, in a silent attempt to get him inside you. You loved being used by your men. You loved it when they asked for your permission to just fuck you for their own pleasure. It was the sheer dominance of it, you thought. How by them using you to get off, it put you in your place and made you remember how your pleasure was almost always controlled by them. How they made such a sub out of you when usually you, yourself, was very dominating.

Jimin didn't waste any time pushing himself inside of you, the both of you groaning at the feel of him stretching your walls. Jimin, though, was a little louder. As soon as you were adjusted to his size, he started to move, to rock into you a little harder than you would have liked given that your other boyfriend was still facing you with his eyes closed and his mind shrouded in sleep.

"Chim-Chim," you moaned, "gentler. I don't want to wake up Yoongi-oppa."

"Too late." Yoongi's voice sounded from in front of you, his deep tone husky and crackling with sleep. His eyes were open, pretty much wide awake, and focussed on Jimin's cock pumping in and out of you.

"I'm sorry, Hyung." Jimin said. His hand came to your knee and lifted your leg up, spreading you further for him. His thrusts became harder, almost desperate. "I can't stop. She just feels too good."

"I know she does, Jiminie." He leant forward and kissed Jimin's lips over you. In your ear, you could hear their intimate moment and somehow it made you wetter.

When Yoongi pulled away, he turned to his bedside drawer and pulled out something long and black. He plugged it into the extension cable on his bedside table. Fuck. Was that a wand? When did he buy that?

He turned back to face you, tutting at Jimin's behaviour. "Come on, Jiminie, it's not fair that you're the only one who gets to cum today." Yoongi licked the head, spreading his saliva around it to lubricate it, before turning the wheel and letting it buzz to life. He spread your folds, exposing your throbbing clit, before pressing the wand to it, immediately making you squeak. As did Jimin, who could feel the vibrations through your pussy. His grip on your knee tightened and he started to rock harder, losing his mind at the pleasure he was feeling.

He spluttered when he tried to speak. "We're using this... every single time – fuck!"

"Do my babies like it, huh?" Yoongi cooed.

"Yes, Oppa." Your voice came out as a moan, unable to control itself.

"I know you do." Yoongi moved towards you, his lips touching yours. When he pulled away, he left your noses touching, looking into your eyes that were blown out with lust. "I can see your beautiful little cunt throbbing around it. I bet if I moved it away, I'd see your filthy cum all over it, wouldn't I, baby?"

"Fuck, Hyung. Keep talking to her like that. She likes it." And he was right. Your cunt kept tightening around him at Yoongi's words, loving each dirty syllable he uttered.

"You're such a little slut for us, aren't you, baby? An attention whore. You love it when we play with you, don't you?"

"Yes! Fuck."

He turned the dial and turned it up to its highest speed suddenly, making you twitch and shake. Jimin bit down on your shoulder to stop from screaming at the sensation. This feeling was brand new for him, and he was so overwhelmed by it all.

"I wonder what would happen if I..." Yoongi let his sentence end half way as he dragged the wand down your cunt, along Jimin's partially exposed shaft and kept it on his balls.

"Hyung!"

Jimin came inside you suddenly, his fingers pressing bruises into your supple skin. You came shortly after, as soon as the wand returned to your clit. Your breathing stopped, your eyes snapped shut, and your fingernails dug into Yoongi's wrist. You needed something to ground you, anything to ground you. And his wrist was the first thing you grabbed.

Yoongi was never one to ask for pleasure. In this kind of situation, he would have played with himself quietly just thinking of the memory. However, you saw how hard he was, how red his tip was, how painful it looked.

The wand, that now lay beside you, lifeless on the bed, found itself in your hand. You straddled Yoongi's thighs, making him open his eyes again and look at you, wand in hand and a glint in your eye. "What are you up to, baby girl?"

You switched the wand on and smirked. "I want my oppa to feel good." And with that, you placed the wand on his shaft, slowly moving it up and down on it's weakest setting. Yoongi's hands that had rested on your thighs were now clutching onto them. He wanted nothing more than to buck his hips. He needed to move, but you sat on his thighs made it impossible for him to so he had to endure the beautiful agony the wand, and by extension you, was giving him. He let out the loudest moan he had ever released when you put the wand on his tip, and turned the speed up.

"Oh shit, baby girl."

"You like that, Oppa?" You asked, your voice dripping with the innocence you knew Yoongi loved.

Yoongi was growling at you when he wasn't moaning, the pleasure almost being too much. Almost.

Jimin, in the distraction, had moved unnoticed towards his hyung, and ran his tongue from Yoongi's shoulder where he'd placed a kiss, down to Yoongi's nipple. He took it in his mouth and swirled his tongue around, knowing Yoongi was sensitive there. Yoongi jolted at the feeling.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby." Yoongi stated. He was fucked out beyond belief. You'd almost mistake him for subbing to you, which sent a twang of arousal straight to your clit.

"Mm, cum, Oppa. Please cum for me." You bent down and kissed his tummy. "I've been a good girl, I deserve it. Please cum for me."

Yoongi could never resist your begging. You felt him tense up beneath you and just as he was about to reach his orgasm, you turned the vibrations up, intensifying what he was feeling. He came all over his tummy, and there was so much of it. Some of it even landed on Jimin's face as he was still attached to Yoongi's nipple.

"Oh my God!"

All three pairs of eyes were drawn to the strange voice in the room, attention turning to the door where the sound was coming from. Standing in the doorway, was Jin. His face was wide with shock, and he was turning red with embarrassment. "What the fuck!?"

You screeched. "Oh my God!" You dived off Yoongi, and hid behind Jimin, praying his naked body would cover yours. Yoongi had no intention of moving or covering himself like you and Jimin. He remained lay on his back, cock out, covered in cum, completely blissed out and unbothered that his flustered hyung was freaking out in the doorway, chuckling to himself.

"My eyes! It burns! I didn't see anything." Jin turned to try and leave, but he bumped hard into the wall. "Fuck. I'm okay. I'm sorry oh my God."

Yoongi's extremely oversized, tan jumper lay on the floor by his bed, in reaching distance. You grabbed it, threw it on your body, and ran towards the door. You pulled Jin inside, closing the door a little harder than you intended.

A knock came at the door, or rather, three consecutive bangs signifying someone was pissed. "What's all the fuss?" Hoseok asked, his voice laced with sleep.

You, at this point, had covered Jin's mouth to stop him screaming at you. "Nothing, everything's fine!" You shouted back.

"Well keep the noise down then."

"Sorry."

Jimin had hidden himself under the duvet at this point, though there was really no need.

"Jin, please don't freak out." You requested.

"How can I not freak out? I just caught the three of you fucking!"

"It's okay."

"How? How is it okay? You're fucking my friends! And they're fucking each other too! What the fuck is this an orgy?"

"Orgies require more people, hyung." Yoongi informed his hyung, still refusing to cover up.

"We were going to tell you, Hyung," Jimin began, "but there never seemed to be the right time."

"We don't need to know about your threesomes."

"It's not a threesome, Hyung." Yoongi said.

"There's three of you having sex, Yoongi. It's a threesome And will you wipe that cum off your stomach and put your cock away? I don't need or want to see that."

"You're the only one in the room who doesn't." Yoongi teased, winking at Jin to further wind him up. Jin rolled his eyes and looked completely disgusted. But, Yoongi did as he was told.

You added, "We're in a relationship."

Jin sort of softened but was still very confused. "Polyamory?" You nodded. "How did this happen? Why? What? When? For how long? I don't understand. Is this going to affect the team?"

"No." Jimin answered. "It hasn't so far and it never will."

Jin sat down on Yoongi's bed, then stood up immediately, his face full of disgust. "Everyone else needs to know about this. You need to tell them today."

And you did. When Jin left and Yoongi and Jimin had got dressed, you sat out on the sofas and waited for everyone to join you. They did, eventually, and sat there curiously looking at you. Jimin pretty much led the meeting, feeling a need to explain to everyone everything.

Everyone sat and listened to what was going on, nodding and trying to take everything in. No one interrupted, or freaked out on you. They all made the effort to understand what was going on. And when Jimin asked if anyone had any questions, they were all forthcoming and open.

"I have one," Taehyung said, "I knew about Jimin's feelings for ___, and obviously we all knew about ___ and Yoongi-hyung. I guess what I'm confused about is how Hyung realised he had feelings for Jimin?"

Yoongi nodded. "I guess I always felt like this, since I met him. Kind of like with ___. Except I knew I loved ___ right from the start, whereas with Jimin it took me a little while. I just assumed that the love I was feeling was normal, like it was just how people with close friends feel. But apparently not. I realised I was in love with Jimin when we almost lost him. I caught myself thinking, if we lost him, I wouldn't have had the chance to tell him how I felt. And I know I didn't tell him even after he'd recovered but, I was too afraid that by saying something, it might make him relapse or something. I don't know. But the longer I left it the more I ended up ignoring it until he came to us in tears because he couldn't handle it anymore.

"And I was also in love with ___ and that confused me, because for some reason, the thought of a polyamorous relationship didn't cross my mind. All I could think of was monogamy. Monogamous relationships are the only way forward. And again, it wasn't until Jimin said that he couldn't have both of us, I was able to take that step back and say, why not?"

Everyone sat there and stared at the three of you, their mouths touching the floor and their minds trying to process exactly what was going on. No one seemed angry with you, that was a bonus.

"How long has this been going on?" Namjoon asked.

"Six months in total for the three of us." You replied

Hobi chirped up. "When are you going to come out to the fans?"

Jimin answered at the same time as you, both of you had different answers, as this was a subject that hadn't been spoken about in your relationship yet. Jimin answered, "soon". You on the other hand, answered, "in a few years hopefully."

At this, Jimin looked at you, as did Yoongi. Jimin looked a little hurt by your comment. "It's not that I don't want to tell the world I'm in love with you two, because I do. It's just Korean society is vastly different to the society I grew up in. Polyamorous relationships back home are, yes, rare, but are generally accepted. As is homosexuality. Here, everything that isn't deemed perfect his hidden in the closet and is never to rear its ugly head. Being gay, though it's legal, it's still not as widely accepted here as it is back home. You two would face a lot of hardships, and that's not even mentioning the polyamorous thing.

"Bringing me into the equation makes things worse because we aren't the perfect couple. We'll never be the perfect couple because we're not a couple. Plus, you've not enlisted into the army yet. I'm not having you surrounded by big, burly, uneducated men who would easily snap you both in half like a toothpick because of who you are and who you're dating. I couldn't bear it. I'd rather you enlist and then we even seriously discuss going public, if at all.

"I don't want this to be the downfall of your careers. Because you've all worked so hard for this and I'm not about to let you throw it away because of me."

Everyone, once again, was stunned with your honesty. Though the boys were ready to shout their love from the rooftops, they started to see your point. Your lives would be made so much more difficult by this, and it wasn't just the careers of Jimin and Yoongi they had to worry about, but the entire band. The world wasn't ready for this kind of relationship. And you all just had to accept that and move on.

"We'll tell Bang PD-nim." Yoongi decided quietly. "And we'll tell the staff so everyone in our immediate circle knows what's going on. And once Shihyukie-hyung knows about our situation, we'll be able to put things in place to make sure the public don't find out – but if they do, we'll be ready for them."

Jin nodded. "He's right, ___. You won't be able to hide this from the company. They need to know about this."

Telling the company wasn't something you necessarily wanted to do but you knew it was the right thing. Yoongi arranged it all, the meeting, exactly what was going to be said. It was almost like he'd been prepared for this from the start. And when the three of you sat down in front of Bang Shihyuk, Yoongi was assertive and authoritative, without being intimidating or rude. He got his point across, was adamant that breaking up wasn't an option and that he just wanted the support of the staff. Shihyuk held a poker face throughout the entire meeting, but ultimately knew that there was nothing to be done except create contingency plans just in case the relationship leaked, which it was likely to do. He said that he would advise we came out before it leaked, making the fans feel appreciated and part of the team, rather than outsiders left in the cold. But Yoongi also stated that wasn't an option for the time being, given their current predicament. Shihyuk understood, accepted the relationship and made everyone promise that it wouldn't affect the boys' professionalism. And with that you were sent on your merry way, walking hand-in-hand through the Big Hit offices until you reached the front door.

Remember, you were friends according to the public. And nothing more.

[aswithasunbeam]

What about the fanfic with Ham or Eliza suffering from hiccup? This could be funny.

Ham with hiccups may be the most adorable thing ever! An early story of mine that I realized I never cross posted onto tumblr features that very scenario! Hope you enjoy!!

Helplessly Falling [Read on AO3]

Rated: G

Summary: Love at first sight is a fittingly romantic tale for Eliza’s children, but it isn’t entirely the truth. The memories of toy soldiers, hiccups, and wine soaked kisses are for her, alone.

The smile stretching Eliza’s cheeks was starting to hurt, but she couldn’t seem to wipe the expression from her face. Hamilton’s face was flushed slightly, whether from the wine, or the roaring fire, or both, she wasn’t sure. His pupils were blown wide. His lips were stained with red. She wanted him to kiss her.

“Then what happened?” he asked, leaning in towards her on the rug before the fire.

She tried desperately to remember what story she’d been telling him. Her aunt and uncle had retired to bed early tonight, unexpectedly leaving her alone with her suitor. Hamilton had produced the bottle of wine and two glasses, and plopped down before the fire with a grin. She’d joined him eagerly, sitting closer than was strictly proper for two young people with no chaperone.

She tried to pull her eyes away from his lips. It was difficult. “Um… then… Angelica… Angelica told Papa that the ceramic duck had never been there at all.”

That was supposed to be an amusing end to an engaging tale from her youth. Hamilton smiled, but he didn’t laugh uproariously as people usually did. Was he distracted too? She shifted on the rug, her whole body tingling. How could she get him to kiss her? She imagined him leaning in, wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through his hair or to bite his full lower lip. Was that normal? 

“Would you like more wine?” he asked huskily.

She nodded. He took the glass from her, his fingertips brushing over the back of her hand. She shifted on the rug again. She hoped he couldn’t hear her breathing.

The wine bottle was almost empty. He poured equal measures out into both of their glasses and handed hers back. She took a sip and watched him do the same.

“You…you must tell a story from your childhood, now, Colonel Hamilton. It’s your turn,” she managed to say.

His smile went a touch melancholy. “I’m afraid I don’t have any amusing tales from my childhood, Miss Schuyler. At least, none such as you have shared.”

“You never pulled a prank on your parents? Got yourself into a scrape for fun?” she pressed. He was so sunny and playful, she thought he must have done something of that sort as a boy.

He shook his head. “We were…very poor. I spent a lot of time helping Mama with the store. And then, after…well, I didn’t have much time for frivolity.”

Her heart felt sore at the idea of his suffering. His mama ran a store? She filed that away in the back of her mind, where she stored all the other little details he’d let slip over the past few weeks. And the after…she could imagine what he’d meant by that. His mother had died. He’d been orphaned and alone.

Her distress must have shown on her face, because he immediately tried to comfort her. “You mustn’t think I was unhappy. I had a very happy childhood. Mama and Papa kept food on the table and a roof over our heads.”

He seemed to be racking his brain for a good story to tell. His whole face lit up a moment later. “Our store mostly sold flour, sugar, eggs, other staples for the islanders. But sometimes we’d get little nick-knacks, books or toys. When I was eight, Mama acquired a toy soldier. It was beautifully crafted. It had a brilliant red coat and a play sword on its waist. I used to stare at it for hours, but I was never allowed to touch. It couldn’t be damaged, you see? Someone would pay good money to buy that soldier for one of the boys in the plantation houses.”

She nodded, picturing that little toy soldier and the small boy staring longingly at it on the shelf.

“One day, I came downstairs, and the little toy soldier was gone. I was heartbroken. Even if I couldn’t play with it, I’d loved looking at that little doll. But then, that night at dinner, Mama gave me a wrapped package. I knew, even before I’d ripped off the paper, what it was. My little toy soldier. She’d bought it for me. She’d saved up for weeks and weeks for that silly toy.”

Eliza felt a grin on her face, even as her chest felt curiously tight. She was so glad he’d gotten that toy. The memory made his eyes light up with joy.

“Do you still have it?” she asked.

The smile dimmed on his face. “No,” he shook his head. “When Mama died, all her things were seized by the probate court. I couldn’t keep anything but my clothes.”

They’d taken his soldier? Her hand gripped his tightly to give comfort. “That’s horrible.”

“I’m quite all right, now, Miss Schuyler, I assure you.”

She couldn’t imagine losing all tangible connections to her childhood. She had a quilt her Mama made out of all her baby clothes. Several rag dolls still sat on the window sill of her childhood bedroom. Her favorite was the one Angelica had torn the head from in a fit of rage when Eliza had ruined a pretend tea party. Mama had sown the head back on with special thread and had given her a scrap of red silk ribbon as a little scarf to cover the stitches. Angelica’s face been livid with anger and jealousy at the fancy fabric on her rag doll.

“It’s still horrible,” she told him seriously.

He looked deeply into her eyes and nodded his agreement. She bit her lip as she leaned forward. The intimacy of the moment and the bottle of wine made her feel she was in a dream. She knew it was going to happen. He was going to kiss her.

Her face was close to his. She could smell the wine on his breath. Her eyes fluttered closed and she puckered her lips.

He hiccuped.

Her eyes popped open and she leaned back in surprise. His cheeks went bright red and a hand flew to cover his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Miss Schuyler. I…” Another hiccup interrupted his apology.

She burst out laughing. His eyes clenched shut, like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. She felt immensely fond. The little squeak of his hiccups, the bright blush on his cheeks. He was so adorable she couldn’t contain herself.

She kissed him.

~*~

Decades later, she sat beside her younger daughter in the parlor. The girl had a dreamy look on her face even an hour after her young Mr. Holly had left the house.

“When did you know you were in love with Papa?” her daughter asked her.

“I loved your Papa from the first moment I saw him,” she said, her standard reply.

But a smile had tugged at her lips as she remembered that night by the fire. Love at first sight is a fittingly romantic tale for her children. It’s not entirely a lie; she’d been drawn to him from the beginning. But that wasn’t love, not really.

The memories of toy soldiers, hiccups, and wine soaked kisses are for her, alone.

[necromancerluna]

25 days of Reylo, Count Down to the Holidays 2! 

Decorating for Us.

AN: This should have been posted on December 2nd but I fell behind. Here is day two of 25 days of Reylo Countdown to the Holidays!

No Trigger Warnings.

This is Modern AU, Ben Solo and Rey. Established Relationship and Christmas fluff. The theme is opposites attract and domestic love in Christmas Decoration.

Happy Reading!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rey woke up to the helpless squeaking of Ben's cat Darth Squeaks. Squeaks was a large fluffy black cat, who for being blind, knew exactly where Ben's nose was to pat him with his paws. The black haired giant of a man, mumbled to himself, batting the cat away. Rey giggled and shook his shoulders, “Someone is hungry, you feed the furbaby and I will get us breakfast.” she kissed his temple. He sighed but obeyed. He pulled their dark purple comforter and lavender cotton sheets off and swung his legs over the bed and into his black slippers. Squeaks chirped happily as he jumped down and trotted to his food bowl on the carpet by their closet. Rey gawked at him, he was only his his black boxers, his toned body on display for her. He grabbed the cat's food bowl and went to the kitchen.

Rey got out of bed, her pajama pants were snowmen and shirt had a penguin with a santa hat on. She dressed into black leggings that had snowmen and snowflakes on them and a thin grey sweater. She put her hair up in a sloppy bun and placed on her Christmas lights necklace. She slipped into her penguin in ugly sweater slippers and met Ben in the hallway. His eyes were still half down, he smiled at her and then made kissy noises so Squeaks would follow him back down the hall. Rey made them beacon and eggs with toast.

“I made the bed, we should change the sheets tomorrow.” Ben's voice was husky with sleep, he had his semi-rimless black glasses on, a plain navy tee and his paint stained work jeans. He saw his black mug with black coffee sitting next to a plate of scrambled eggs. He smiled and kissed her, taking a seat next to her at the island countertop in their Kitchen. “Thanks for breakfast.”

With over easy egg on her toast in her mouth she nodded and with her mouth half full said, “Welcome hun, tank yov for makin da bed.”

He bit back a laugh and opted for their topic of the day, “Well, Squeaks is fed, we're about to be fed, it's Saturday morning on December 2nd, why don't we decorate for Christmas?”

She licked her fingers but paused at the last part of his sentence. Her eyes went wide and brightened, she gasped, “Yes! Yes, November just slipped by so fast I didn't even think! I'll go get my stuff from the shed.” they finished their meal in comfortable silence. Ben taking their plates and places them and the frying pan into the dishwasher. Their cat jumped nimbly onto the island and laid onto his back to receive belly rubs from Rey and Ben.

They went to their shed in the backyard. It was mostly Ben things, childhood toys, photo albums, note books of old writings, his high school and college year books and other memorabilia, then there was the Halloween decorations and Chritmas. Ben had one large plastic container and Rey had a shoe box. It started hitting her as Ben closed and locked the shed and went back inside with her that she didn't have a lot. He placed his large box down, opened it and got out white icicle lights, a 4ft plastic Christmas Tree, a shoe box that had very childish handwriting that said, 'Ben Organa-Solo's Ordaments'. She stifled her laughter at the misspelling and the image of a small Ben with ears he didn't quite grow into yet scribbling this onto his box. There was a few more things, wrapping paper and bows as well as bag for gifts, a small musical merry-go-round and his Christmas Stocking that was hand knitted by his mother.  

He turned to her, gesturing for her to open up her box. It was mostly ornaments, pictures of her and Poe when they were teenagers, another of her Finn and Poe in University. She had a cloth calendar in the shape of a Christmas tree with red pockets and toys drawn on the pockets- there was even a little stuffed Santa that kept the date while peeking out to see if you're bad or good. Ben sat there at her attention, asking her about her things and letting her put them where she'd like.

The tree went first, on the coffee table in the living room, he put sliver tinsel around it to make it fuller. They carefully arranged their ornaments, heed taken to not over crowd. He let Rey twist the Merry-go-round music and put it on the island of the kitchen as a center piece. It played jingle bells a little faster than she thought it would. Outside with ladders and laughs they hung the icicle lights. In the windows they used command hooks to get blue lights in the large living room window that faced the street.

Ben, content with the minimal décor, poured water into her red kettle and placed it on the stove top. He busied himself with getting the coco mixes and marshmallows. Rey tried to keep smiling, there was nothing that separated the L-Shape of the dinning room, kitchen and living room, she stood at the glass dinning room table and stared around. It didn't look right. When she lived with her adoptive brother, Poe, the Dameron's house was full to the brim with decorations. The tree was huge and real, there was a tree skirt, signs that said things like 'This House Believes' on every surface of wall space, over mitts and wash cloths all Christmas themed.

He noticed. The kettle screamed, he turned the heat off, poured their coco and placed Marshmallows in hers and two in his. He squirted caramel twice in his and she absentmindedly asked him to put whip cream as well as caramel sauce on top. She took it from him and peeled her eyes away to narrow in on the only Christmas item in the kitchen. Ben cleared his throat to get her attention. “What's the matter, Sweetheart?”

“This doesn't seem very Christmasy- it's our place but with a tree, some lights and three trinkets.” she mumbled.

He pried, “What makes you say that?”

“The Damerons had so much, Poe and I felt like it changed to some sort of winter wonderland over night.”

Ben paused, he thought of his words carefully, “As you know, I'm a minimalist, and as you know I usually only go all out for Halloween-” he glanced her way to see her attentively listening, “Christmas can leave a bad taste in my mouth, it wasn't always happy for me- Mom tried her best, over doing it in some ways. Mostly to make the both of us feel better when Han ditched us. In fact the Christmas when I was fifteen, I spent it holding my mother as she sobbed. My mother wanted marriage counseling, my father told her he'd sign the divorce papers, he wasn't good enough for her.” the bad taste was in his mouth then, “He was right, he's not good enough for my mother, but I wish he would have listened to her- because as much as it pains me to say it they work in their own sort of strange way and he made her happy at some point.”

“I'm sorry Ben.”

He scratched the back of his head and rubbed his neck, “Sorry, that was much to heavy for this morning and I lost track of my point, my point is- we're not my parents and do you want to go Christmas shopping?”

Her eyes light up brighter than the light they hung. “Yes!”

“Let's go to Target then.” he grabbed their mugs and deposited them into the dishwasher.

“Won't that get expensive.” He glanced at her, “I am the author of four New York Time best selling novels and working on a just finished one of a three part series that Armitage says is going to be another, and my mother is a Senator, I think I can handle a trip to Target.” he bragged. “Besides, with all the work you're putting me to, you could buy us dinner.”

“Hawiian BBQ?”

“You know me so well.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chicken, pulled pork, and beef with white rice and veggies. The smell was savory, making both their mouths water. They split the food, Rey guzzling her orange soda and Ben with his Dr Pepper. There was a small army of target bags at their feet and the afternoon seemed to have gone away, the sun would set soon. Once bellies were full, Rey sprung into action. She was replaced the over mitts with red ones that had cute snowmen, a kitchen towel to match. In the bathroom, which normal held a grey and purple theme was slowly transformed into a pink, rose gold, Christmas corner, a gold glittering Reindeer on the counter with the sink, rose gold Christmas Trees and cream colored towels. The dinning room received a tiny black tree decorated with old school game console controllers. Signs with cute sayings and sweet pictures were put up with command hooks. Another tiny green Christmas Tree was put in the living room with the HO HO HO red pillows on their chocolate brown couch. Fleece throws over the two lazy boys, one being beige in color with black cats in scarves playing with colorful yarn balls the other one black with little dogs in hat playing with balls. Gold, red, and sliver tinsel everywhere. And last a velvet rich red tree skirt. Squeaks sniffed the tree skirt and then jumped onto the coffee table and snuggled under the tree for a nap. Ben took a picture on his phone, “Squeaks seal of approval.”

She smiled down at the feline, she turned to Ben, “This could just be my Christmas gift this year, you spent a lot on me.”

“I spent a lot on us, seeing your excitement is enough.” he blew her off.

She grabbed his hand, “No, really, thank you. Don't get me anything else for Christmas.”

He glanced at her and kissed the back of her hand, “I am driving for us now, not me, besides, you really made this place feel like a Hallmark movie.”

“You hate Hallmark movies.”

“I'd watch this one.” he said with a wink.

She smirked and then glanced at the tree. She played with one of his Ornaments, she giggled and thought to herself 'ordaments'. She then realized she didn't really appreciate the decorating of the tree. A knot twisted and sunk in her stomach. She had been so consumed with how much decorating was that she forgot just to slow down and enjoy it with him. She started taking them down. He seemed disgruntled when he asked, “What are you doing, Rey?”

“I want a redo, can I have that?” she snapped- she winced then, she hadn't meant to snap. “Sorry, I got embarrassed. I spent so much time thinking about Christmas with The Damerons that I forgot this is our Christmas.”

“Hmm...” he eyed her before he nodded with a smile.

She laid them out into a pile of his and hers. He picked one up, it was of a crown. “What's with the crown?” Rey asked.

“My maternal grandfather called her his princess, so when I was born she told me I was a prince.”

she snorted, “Started your ego young I see.”

He chuckled, “Your turn.”

She picked up a Saguaro that had a Santa hat on it, “This is from when I was 13, they adopted me around Christmas time and did this to remember where I came from. Arizona was a rough place but I came to live here in Washington it really was greener on the other side, but I was to remember where I came from.” she put it just above his crown on the tree. “You next, but only the ones that mean something.”

He picked up a one of a Sword and Shield, “Han gave this to me before the real problems began between him and my Mother, he told me that chivalry didn't die with me.”

She grabbed an airplane, “Poe gave this to me after he came back from his first deployment.”

He picked up the last unique ornament on his end, the others simply being glass orbs of red, gold and clear with glittering white. It was of a Quill, “Mom gave this to me when I published my first book.”

She grabbed her last unique ornament that wasn't red and green plastic orbs, it was a gold glittering key, “Dad gave this to me when I graduating University, he said this was the key to the world of possibilities I opened myself up for. “ She placed it next to his quill. They hugged before finishing the redecorating.

It was going on seven at night, Squeaks stretched on the tree skirt and began to beg. Jumping gracefully from the coffee table and onto the couch with them. Bumping their hands with his cold little wet nose and demanding their pets. “Someone is hungry.” Ben said, picking up the fluff ball and cooing to him. Rey left to feed him, mixing in his beef wet food with his dry food. Squeak wiggled desperately out of Ben's arms when he heard his meal being prepared. He trotted down the hall after Rey, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts.

He spotted Rey coming back down the hall. She stretched her arms up and asked him if he wanted some coco. He agreed and watched her. He thought to himself, this was going to be the Best Christmas.

[sending-the-message]

The Unicorn by Ilunibi

There’s little else in this great big world that can make a little girl in the ‘90s more excited than goddamn stickers. Glittery Lisa Frank nonsense by the roll, bought in needlessly pricey gift sets that peppered the caps of the pink aisles, princesses and My Little Ponies; hell, I used to get excited about the stickers that came on the fruit my mom brought home, or the foil stars my kindergarten teacher stuck to my spelling tests. I was a goddamn ferocious sticker collecting machine, and nothing made me or my friends more needlessly excited than badly printed cartoon characters on shitty adhesive paper.

Nothing.

In fact, the pecking order of my childhood group of friends was usually decided by who had the largest, most unique, most vibrant collection on the whole block, in the same way that some of the boys used their trading cards. She who had the newest set of rainbow dalmatians and sparkling pink horses was essentially the alpha female, and the more glitter and holographic film we had to show off, the better. We’d pile together in our living rooms with shoe boxes of treasures and try in vain to compete with the reigning champion in the neighborhood: my cousin, Rebecca.

Rebecca was different than the rest of us. She wasn’t a resident of that impoverished corner of town, but she was a frequent visitor. My aunt and uncle had barreled their way out of the slums through a combination of hard work and luck (which they’d never admit to), so Rebecca had a lot more at her disposal than a bunch of first and second graders who scrounged together their allowance to buy a couple of sheets of stickers from the drug store. No, she was the cool, older kid with literal boxes of untouched sheets and rolls of Disney characters and multicolored unicorns and cute puppies and fuzzy kittens. And, while she wasn’t in any way mean or unkind to us, she was an absolute scrooge with her collection. I suppose I would be too if the situation were reversed.

We could marvel at her recent acquisitions, but we couldn’t actually touch. Trading with her was like talking to a brick wall, because she was more there to gloat than to take part in our mad scramble. Occasionally, if the wind blew in exactly the right way and the sun was aligned properly with the planets, she’d bestow upon us a gift from her hoard, though I could never peg whether it was goodwill or showing off. It doesn’t matter. She gave me a rainbow shark for my birthday and I still have it stuck in my drawer of sentimental junk.

Additionally, she was very particular about her stickers. I can’t think of time when, at the end of our sessions, she didn’t comb the entire room just to make sure that everything was in its place. I’m not sure how an eight-year-old girl manages to memorize exactly how many sheets of identical Casey and Caymus stickers she has, but it never failed that she would always notice if something was missing. Sometimes, things got mixed up and we’d have to sort through our own piles to find the errant stickers, and sometimes we’d spend half an hour looking under furniture until we found where it fluttered to. She was anal about it.

Which is why it shocked me when she left for the day and I discovered she’d forgotten one.

It was a regular day of our swap meeting, sitting beneath the picture window of my mom’s living room, the only anomaly being that Rebecca seemed more than a little under the weather. The other girls who could make it wrapped up early because their moms needed them home from lunch, but Rebecca lingered until well into the evening until her parents finally picked her up. She counted out her sheets, we spent way too long looking for a missing dragon she’d got from a fifty cent machine, and once she was satisfied with her inventory, she packed up everything and left.

Only, as soon as she was out the door, I noticed something sitting where she had just been. It was on white wax paper and was the size of a Skittle, but it was a fluorescent yellow that caught my eye immediately. I dove on it out of curiosity and a weird sense of first-grade desperation. I didn’t care that, technically, it was stealing. I just cared that Rebecca had somehow missed one of her treasured stickers--probably because she was too sick to notice or care--and I could add it to my own collection.

It wasn’t anything impressive: a yellow circle with the tiny, awkward silhouette of a unicorn on it. In any other situation, I’d think it was the dullest thing I could ever cram into my pile, but it was Rebecca’s. That made it special.

As I shuffled it into my shoe box of wonders, I justified it to myself by repeating the mantra that, if it meant that much to her, she would have noticed it was gone regardless of how ill she felt. Maybe it wasn’t even her who dropped it. Maybe it was Cathy or Ashley or a girl from a previous get-together, and I know all of my friends wouldn’t mind if I kept something as insignificant as a teeny, tiny, pinkie-nail sized sticker with a poorly drawn unicorn on it. If they did bring it up, I’d just give them one of my gold stars or weird, bug-eyed smileys from the doctor’s office. In my mind, it’d balance itself out.

Predictably, after half an hour of gloating to my stuffed animals, I did what any kid would: I completely forgot about it. That unicorn sticker was lost in the fog of dressing up a Beanie Baby in doll clothes so he could have a lovely night out at Pride Rock with his girlfriend, bootleg Hello Kitty. By the time my mom forced me to take a bath and ordered me into bed, the unicorn sticker was barely a blip on the radar, at least until Rebecca finally called me out on my theft.

Or, normally that’s how it would go, except for the fact that I barely could sleep that night. I was plagued with nightmare after nightmare, waking up to stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, feeling like something was glaring at me. I’d always doze off again, but the dreams would go on like a sick, twisted clip show: finding Rebecca eating my neighborhood friends alive in the kitchen, watching my dog get slowly crushed by a car, drowning in the river beside my house. And it just went on and on.

And on. And on.

For days.

To say my mother was concerned by my night terrors was an understatement, but less of one than to say I was scared when I realized she would react to smells and glimpses of something dark that seemed to ooze around in our peripheral vision. You see, as the days marched on, the nightmares seemed to persist in small, strange ways once I woke up. I’d catch a whiff of vinegar and sulfur out of nowhere and watch, horrified, as my mother’s nostrils would flare and her brows would furrow in confusion. I’d see strange shadows slink around the wall, always bolting out of sight if I looked to them and, eventually, I’d watch my mom whip her head around to seek out the culprit, too.

It took almost a week for me to put two and two together, my house gradually becoming more and more unwelcoming and my sleep becoming less and less restful. I probably would have never figured it out if I hadn’t knocked over my box of stickers while staggering tiredly across my room. Amidst tears of frustration and kid-friendly curses that wouldn’t get me grounded, I started putting everything back into place and stumbled across that goddamned unicorn.

It was just as boring as I remembered it, lemon yellow with a awkward silhouette like some kind of girly Batman logo. I stared at it, it stared back, and then I got a whiff of something sour that was so strong that my eyes watered. I blinked and looked down, only to see a blank yellow circle staring back from my palm.

I screamed. I was too young to really register how crazy it sounded and too trusting in the idea that my mom would believe me, and she opted to chalk it up to sleep deprivation. She practically manhandled me to force a Benadryl down my throat, telling me it was for my own good, that I needed a nap, that she’d find a way to get me to the doctor within the next couple of days.

I fought valiantly, but was out like a light within a few minutes.

And I awoke in a nightmare, huddled in my bed, the floor stretching for miles and miles and the walls climbing up to the stratosphere. The only source of light was an ethereal ball of what looked like fire but, somehow, less substantial. It ebbed and flowed and glowed and the shadows seemed to dance with its erratic undulations, twisting and squirming like snakes and monsters. Some of them seemed to have faces, but they burned away in the light.

Fire or no, it was cold. I huddled beneath my blanket, breath creating clouds in the air as I stared, transfixed, at this strange ball of energy. Something dark began to grow inside of it, a shadow that wouldn’t melt, and as it expanded, the orange light grew brighter and more golden, almost radiant. I squeaked and tried to run as I saw four spindly legs, a long and crooked neck, and a jagged horn, but my body was paralyzed when it let out a horrifying scream.

Have you ever heard a horse when it’s angry? It’s petrifying. Terrifying enough, actually, that it was the basis for a dinosaur roar in many films. Loud enough that it makes your ears pop and your head throb. I clapped my hands over my ears and felt blood pool in my palms as it grew louder and louder and louder and louder. I screamed back and it drowned me out, one voice becoming two becoming three.

Though there was only one solitary creature standing in front of me, one twisted and deranged unicorn that jittered unnaturally and bent at weird angles, its voice came from everywhere. In its screams, I began to hear whispers, then words.

Threats.

Threats spoken in languages a six-year-old shouldn’t know, yet somehow I understood. Threats of what would become of me and my family, and lists of everything it knew I cared about. It detailed what it would do to everyone from my favorite toy to my family dog to my best friend to my long-dead grandmother who it shrieked, triumphantly, it could reach even though I would never see her again. I saw flashes of white walls and cups of medicine and a woman, with hair and eyes and skin like me, hanging listlessly from a pipe by her bedsheets with a toppled chair beneath her feet.

“This is what happens,” it told me. “This is what will happen. This is what I am. I am your worst nightmare.”

The screaming only stopped when I felt a horrible pain. I awoke on the floor in my room--my real room--with my mother at the bedroom door, pale-faced and hoarse. My face was sticky and warm, my left eye wouldn’t open. As I tried to push myself up, my mom screeched in a way that would have put the unicorn to shame.

She got me to the doctor that day.

The official story was that I’d fallen out of bed, and maybe I had. Cracked my head on the nightstand and nearly gouged my eye out, but caught my brow instead. They gave me a little clamp because it was too swollen for stitches and, as per usual, a sticker to help me feel better. I stared at it on the ride home, knowing what it was that I had to do.

When the weekend rolled around and we had our little trading party, Rebecca came to gloat, as always. The neighborhood girls clamored around her most recent additions, like a whole new set of glow-in-the-dark aliens and a few sheets of Disney heroines. They ooh-ed and aah-ed and thankfully paid no attention to my bruised and battered face as I sat there, fist clenched around that fucking unicorn as I struggled to force a smile. I couldn’t help but notice how much more alive and refreshed and energized Rebecca was as she flittered around, grinning and happy.

Not like she was when she made me scour the living room for that goddamn dragon sticker the day I found the unicorn.

She had done it on purpose, hadn’t she? She’d left that thing in my house trying to get away from it and look what it had done. Anger was my fuel as I waited for her to turn her back, grabbed a box of her stickers, and chucked the unicorn in. I shook it for good measure, so the tiny thing would settle somewhere in the bottom where she would probably miss it.

And she did. Somehow, despite every odd against me, she missed it. When she left for the evening, she only did a quick check for anything that could have fallen, packed her boxes under her arm, and left with a cheerful wave. I couldn’t even feel remorse as I watched her go; in my mind, it was justified. In my mind, I was playing tit-for-tat. If she was willing to throw her little cousin under the bus, then maybe little cousin had every right to dish it right back at her.

I slept very soundly that night, and the night after that, and the night after that. A miracle, my mother called it, though I knew the truth. I still know the truth.

And I think Rebecca does, too.

I visit her sometimes, out at the ward. She’s not very responsive and more than a little prone to falling asleep mid-visit, but sometimes when she looks at me, there’s a glint of hate and fear and disgust that I can catch in her eye, and envy and spite hidden deep in her voice. It’s like she wants to tell me that I should be in her place, that it should have been me whose childhood was robbed from her.

She wants to tell me, but she can’t. She won’t. She’ll never admit what she did, because she wants me to feel like she is the victim in all of this, that she never once tried to sacrifice me to whatever the fuck that unicorn really is. She doesn’t want to admit that I won.

Or maybe, just maybe, she’s guilty. She knows what she did and I’m a constant reminder of it, the only family member who ever visits and the only one who stays to talk. Maybe she hates me because I remind her of what a monster she is, perhaps even worse than the unicorn ever could be.

And maybe? Maybe that’s the worst nightmare of all.