#I must say I am very happy with how they all turned out!! Especially Cookie Monster

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the hellfire club

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)

Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !

–

March 21st, 1986.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 

I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 

While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 

I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.

A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.

Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 

To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 

Mike is visiting!

Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 

You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 

Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 

Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!

I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 

Love, El.

P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 

–

Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 

El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.

Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.

The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 

Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  

Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.

For bug.

The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  

Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 

“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”

“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 

Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 

“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”

You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”

“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 

Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”

“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 

You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”

“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”

“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 

“Yikes, Dusty.”

“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”

“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”

“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”

“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 

He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”

Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 

You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 

“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 

You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”

“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”

“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”

You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.

But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 

Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.

And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”

Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 

Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.

“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.

“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 

And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”

Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 

“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”

You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”

“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”

You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”

–

It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 

Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 

“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 

“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”

“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 

“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”

Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 

You suck in a breath. “Steve…”

Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 

While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”

Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”

“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”

“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”

Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”

“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”

You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”

Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 

“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.

Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”

“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 

Which means it has to be about someone. 

Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”

“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”

“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.

Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”

“I really don’t care–”

“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”

Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”

“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”

“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”

You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”

“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 

“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 

Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”

“True love’s side.”

Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”

“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.

“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 

Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”

“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.

“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 

Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”

“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”

You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”

“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 

You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 

Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.

Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.

You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 

– 

The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.

“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”

“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”

He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.

On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.

Not the best combination, honestly.

With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.

The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.

The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 

While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 

“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”

“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”

“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.

Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.

Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.

You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 

Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.

“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”

Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”

“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”

Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”

Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”

“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.

“He’s good with a bat.”

Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.

Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 

The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 

Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 

You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 

But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 

Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 

You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.

Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.

Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 

“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 

“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.

Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 

You’re the best of them.

“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”

Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 

Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.

Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 

You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 

“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”

Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 

This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.

You hate Jason Carver.

But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.

“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.

“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”

Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”

“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”

Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 

You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 

Goddamn Eddie Munson. 

“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”

“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”

You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”

Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 

A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.

Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 

Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”

You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”

“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”

“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”

Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”

Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 

“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”

“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”

You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”

“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 

“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”

Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”

“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.

“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”

“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 

You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”

Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”

“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”

“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”

You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.

“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.

“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”

All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 

For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”

It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”

Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”

The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 

“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”

“What is?”

“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”

You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”

Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 

They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.

– 

Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 

You’ll miss him when you graduate. 

Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 

“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 

You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”

“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”

“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 

You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”

“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 

“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 

“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”

Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 

“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 

“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.

You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 

And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 

Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 

“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.

Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”

“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”

He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”

“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.

Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”

“No.”

“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 

You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”

Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 

“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 

“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”

“No!” You scream at him. 

The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 

You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 

You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 

Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 

By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.

Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.

– 

You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 

School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.

He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 

For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.

“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 

The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 

The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 

Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 

Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 

“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 

You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”

Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 

In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 

But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 

The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.

“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 

You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 

Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.

In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”

“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 

Lucas is playing.

The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 

“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.

Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.

Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.

“Sinclair did it!”

Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.

Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”

He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”

“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”

Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 

Sin to win, Sinclair!

You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.

“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.

You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 

“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.

For once, you can’t find the right words to say.

“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 

You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.

– 

Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 

“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”

You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.

But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?

“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.

It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”

He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”

“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.

Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”

“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”

“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”

As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 

“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 

It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 

The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.

And now Steve wants to do the same for you.

Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”

“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”

“You… you can’t.” 

Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”

Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”

Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.

“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”

“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”

Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.

But he can’t see that right now.

“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”

You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”

“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”

“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 

Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Steve–”

“You were just going to leave me.”

He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”

“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 

He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 

Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 

“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 

Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 

“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”

“I think you should go.”

The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”

“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 

Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 

It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”

“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 

“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.

For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 

The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 

“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.

“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”

His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 

You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.

You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 

Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 

“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 

“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”

Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”

He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”

“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”

His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.

He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 

You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 

Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.

“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”

You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 

There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[raw-law]

My turn to be a tad bit late.. Missed me, gentlemen? I was a bit busy these past days.

Trust me, I certaintly don't mind handing out criticism if necessary in the past as well as in the future. Avoiding offense at all cost is something implemented in today's society so deeply that it really reinforces people pleaser nature and makes it so hard to find people big enough to go out of their way to understand someone else, especially someone they're not close with/they don't have to keep up harmony with. To limit out of false pride is embarrassing. However.. Being asked for it is certaintly rare. You two are something, you know? Yes.. Yes. Mhm. I understand Misa in a way, I do. The shadow of such a polite, well behaved individual must be intriguing. I must say, Light, for someone constantly performing, you're doing spectacular. Though I do admit I would like to see you slip up once in a while and reveal more of Kira, I think that'd be amusing for both me AND Ryuzaki. Keyword Ryuzaki.. keyword criticism.. Isn't it a shame, Light? Not only certain statements or your.. homoerotic poem, your entire joint blog indicates the significance of your friendship and yet your friend is new to indulging in the note of his brilliance? That doesn't sound coextensive. With analytical skills of your kind, there's no doubt you see him the way I am capable of seeing him. And others do.. No wonder he's seeking a lovely lady. Maybe you should make your friends feel a little more cherished, Light. Right, Ryuzaki? Unfortunately I can't serve with the adoration of a sweet lady, because I'm male. However as you may have noticed I'm well versed in capacity if you don't mind the masculinity.. ahem... Anyways.. Books. Words. Literature. I'm just fucking with you btw. Partly, that is. Light, those are exceptional choices. I only recently got into literature so I'm starting off with classics like Kafka, Wilde, Shakespeare etc. (though the latter is more poems which I do enjoy to read and analyze just as much) - So Light, you were quite helpful and I actually started reading Someone Who Will Love You In All Your Damaged Glory based on your recommendation because that spoke to me the most. I'm certainly liking it and I'll keep you updated. From what I have taken out of your poems, your writing style is similar to mine as well. That was a pleasant surprise. We also have the same mbti, at least based on your latest result. Anyway, Ryuzaki.. I can heavily relate. I'm an insanely fast reader and yet I'm pretty slow with reading, if that makes sense. I'm just very easily.. understimulated? I guess. English is not my native language, hahaha. So yes, scanning through word after word without being able to shift your attention comes heavy to me too. Some books and poems are absolutely worth it though. If You Give a Mouse a Cookie is an adorable choice. Not everything has to be particularly sophisticated, I feel like when you live in your head a lot (which I do, because I'm never not analyzing and observing) - it is relieving to read/watch something that isn't mentally demanding because it has zero chances of overwhelming us. I have many interests and hobbies, and when I say many I sincerely mean it, so if I used full capacity of my brain power for every single one of them I would have none left for social interaction. I do have to thank you two for the motivation to start writing poems again, btw. I will send it your way if you're interested + if it's any good.. How did you two get into poetry?

Also.. Happy belated birthday to Ryuzaki. Please keep on being your twisted, charming self. I'm also honored to know you'd let me participate in an anon debate. Maybe not a good idea though. I don't like to be careful or sensitive with my opinions and debates. Are you some kind of sadist? You couldn't possibly want that.

-🩶

L:

honestly, yes. what can i say, i like reading other people's thoughts, and it's a little hard to not notice another's absence. hopefully your busy days aren't too stressful though, and i wish you luck in whatever you have going on.

i agree about that bit of avoiding offense though. i think the world needs more people who can disagree with each other without it being seen as a personal attack. or maybe that's just my bias for debate speaking. either way i do know we could also use more of kira in the world..... (i know what you are, light..)

i don't remember ever saying i was seeking a "lovely lady"... but i do swing both ways, if that's what you're asking.

glad to know i'm not the only with that weird reading issue... understimulated probably is the best way to describe it. i can also relate to that bit about never not analyzing. that probably explains why i lean towards more casual literature. i'm glad you've been able to take up poetry again. i'd be delighted to see what you write. "any good" or not, i'd still be very interested, so long as you're comfortable sharing, of course. as for why i got interested in poetry... well.. i watched Dead Poets Society, and anybody who has seen that film should be able to put the pieces together from then on.

and thank you for the wishes, hah. but yes, i am a sadist. that is exactly what i want. you'll have a chaotic translator interpreting for you anyways. however that could either ease or augment the tensions. either way, it works for my amusement. so please do consider joining anyhow. do it "for the vine", as they say. :)

Light:

Hey, first of all I'm so sorry that I took so long to answer, this ask has been sitting in our inbox for forever. I've been really busy these past few weeks, and I wanted to save it for when I could sit down and properly think about what I wanted to say.

I suppose that the world does, like you've said, need more people who are willing to criticise and more people who are willing to accept constructive feedback without taking it to be an attack on their personal self. We've become a very...fake society, in that way, rarely giving our honest opinions on anything---this place's become so complicated to live in. It's saddening.

Anyways, on to literature. You can probably tell that I do enjoy it quite a bit, I guess. And I'm glad you're enjoying our recommendations. As I've mentioned before, English isn't my native language as well, but it is a fun language to play around with, and I'm proficient enough in it to enjoy some literature in my free time. I'm a fast reader, and so far I'm on the lookout for new books to consume, so...feel free to recommend any of your favourites or what's on your current reading list. And if you'd like, you can also share some of your writings on this blog, I'm sure we'll like it very much!

Have a good day, Silver Heart Anon. Wishing you the best for whatever you'd like to accomplish.

[muppette]

I drew some more Sesame Street humanizations!! This time I present: Cookie Monster, Abby Cadaby, Mr. Snuffleupagus, Herry Monster, and Big Bird!

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Love Sick

Masterlist

Summary: A story about how Spencer’s worst decision ever somehow ends up being his best.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! This fic is loosely based on a request I got about Spencer faking an illness to keep the reader from going on a date.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: swearing

Word Count: 4k

Spencer has done a terrible, awful thing.

He wants to argue that he doesn’t know what came over him, but that would be untrue and he’s already met today’s quota on little white lies. Spencer knows exactly what possessed him to call you up at seven thirty on a Saturday night, and it wasn’t so that the two of you could discuss the weather or the recent upward trend in the stock market. Spencer’s spontaneous (panicked) phone call to you was a brazen attempt to abate the green-eyed monster that had been whispering dreadful things in his ear for the better part of a week.

To put it simply; Spencer is jealous, and he’s dealing with it rather poorly.

So poorly that he’s resorted to sabotage.

As he sits on his couch and worries at a hole in the bottom of his designated lounging sweatshirt, Spencer attempts to justify his actions. His tiny fib won’t hurt anyone . . . except, perhaps, one annoyingly perfect and stupidly handsome veterinarian. But Spencer can live with that. Potentially scorning an animal care specialist isn’t the thing that has his stomach in knots. That, he can live with. Spencer doesn’t even have pets, so there’s no longterm consequences as far as the vet is concerned. The notion of lying to you, on the other hand? 

Spencer is positively sick with nerves.

He’s not sure why. Spencer’s gotten rather good at lying to you. Several months of pining for you from across the hallway of your shared apartment complex has turned him into quite the master of deceit, after all. He was a sucker from the moment he opened his door and lay his eyes on you, arms outstretched and wielding a plate of homemade sweets. The cookies were lovely, but the breathtaking smile on your face is what really did him in.

Since that first day, Spencer’s gone out of his way to ensure that he’s on the receiving end of that smile as often as possible. His efforts are never in vain; for reasons unbeknownst to him, you seem to enjoy spending time with him just as much as he did you. This mutual fondness results in most of Spencer’s off days being spent in your company. Spencer was certain that, with time, he would work up the nerve to ask you out on a date. He’s halfway to convincing himself that you might even say yes when your cat makes the unfortunate decision to steal a brownie from your plate and gulp the whole thing down.

Enter, aforementioned veterinarian.

The sound of your door opening from across the hall has Spencer breaking out into a cold sweat. His hand is halfway to his forehead, ready to wipe away the perspiration when he pauses. His body’s anxious reaction might just help him sell his story. Yes, Spencer thinks, this is a good thing. Authenticity, and all that.

Several soft footsteps are muffled by the door that separates him from you, and then his doorknob jiggles as you struggle to fit your key into the lock. A jolt of adrenaline surges through Spencer and in the blink of an eye he’s on his feet and sprinting to his bathroom in the name of authenticity. If he wants to keep up this ridiculous façade, and he really, really does, Spencer is prepared to fake it until he makes it. The alternative is far too mortifying. Failure is not an option.

Spencer cringes when he lifts his eyes to meet his reflection. He’s been told more than once that he’s an absolutely terrible liar, and the wide, guilty eyes that stare back at him confirm this. All it will take is one look at him and you’ll know something’s amiss. Perhaps it isn’t too late for Spencer to come clean. It would be embarrassing, yeah, but no less embarrassing than it would be an hour from now when you call him on his shit. But then again, there is always the possibility that you will get angry with him and leave, and Spencer isn’t willing to risk you walking away from him. Not tonight.

Spencer barely has the time to splash some cold water on his face and dive to the bathroom floor before you’re pushing open the door to his apartment and calling out his name. His brain, the part that isn’t rendered useless in his panicked state, reminds him of just how many germs can be found on the average bathroom floor. It’s enough to make him pause, but only for a moment. He takes a deep breath before slumping over against the toilet.

Showtime.

“M’ in here,” Spencer calls out in his croakiest voice. It comes out exactly as he intended, all rough and pitiful. Maybe he can pull this off, after all.

The soft pitter patter of your bare feet makes his heart rate increase exponentially. Spencer steels himself, recites a reassuring mantra in his head. I can do this; I can do this.

Spencer’s poor, overworked heart gets a much-needed rest when you step into the doorway. In fact, he’s almost certain it stops completely at the sight of you in a tiny red dress. A tiny red dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Spencer can’t even see past his mounting panic to enjoy the way you look. That damn red dress serves as a brutal reminder of why he’s sitting in his bathroom floor, clutching his toilet bowl and damn near drowning in a nervous sweat.

The thing is, Spencer hadn’t intended on sabotaging your date with the vet. He had every intention of staying in, wallowing in his sorrows and waiting up for you. Spencer even said this to Derek, who was kind enough to call him and remind him of how big of a jackass he was. Spencer didn’t need the reminder. He was well aware.

But then Derek said something that made Spencer’s blood run cold.

“And what exactly do you plan to do if she doesn’t come home?”

So, really, it’s Derek’s fault that Spencer promptly ended the call and dialed your number. It’s also Derek’s fault that Spencer is about to give the most convincing performance of his entire fucking life.

“I’m sorry I called you, but I didn’t know what else to do. I just feel so awful.” And he does feel awful, just not in the way you think.

You’re quick to close the distance between the two of you, dropping to your knees and brushing stray pieces of hair away from Spencer’s clammy forehead. His skin sings where your hand grazes it. If he didn’t have a fever before, he will if you don’t stop touching him.

“Don’t ever apologize, Spence. I wish you’d have called me sooner,” you murmur. Warm, concerned eyes drag across Spencer’s bedraggled appearance. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

Spencer gulps. “A few hours, I guess. I ate my leftovers from last night for lunch. Maybe that’s what’s wrong.”Lies, lies, lies!

Your brow furrows. “That’s strange. I ate mine, too, and I feel fine.”

Spencer doesn’t really have an argument for that, so he fakes a pained groan and rests his head against his arm. He closes his eyes and prays the intro to theater class he took in high school will pay off.

You must deem his act convincing enough because you press a soft kiss to the top of his hair and stand. Spencer hears the sound of a cabinet opening, followed by the sound of running water.

The tender touch of your hand on his shoulder has him raising his head and looking up at you, inquisitive. You place a cold washrag to his forehead, and Spencer melts into the touch. It feels heavenly against his hot skin.

“Do you think you could manage to take a shower?” you prompt, earning a feeble nod from Spencer. He doesn’t even have to fake the way he trembles as you run the damp cloth down his neck. “I think I have some broccoli and cheddar soup at my apartment. I’ll go change and grab it while you shower.”

Elation spreads through Spencer, pouring from his heart until it reaches the very tips of his extremities. He can’t believe his scheme hasn’t blown up in his face already.

With the help of your outstretched hand, Spencer rises to his feet and braces himself against the shower door. You make no move to remove your hand from his, and that gives him the courage to ask his next question.

“What about your date?”

You shrug and an easy smile spreads across your face. Spencer feels faint. He blames it on his imaginary illness.  

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing I’m concerned with right now is taking care of you.”

Spencer bites down hard on the flesh of his cheek to keep a smug grin at bay. This is a victory he’ll have to celebrate at a later date.

--

Spencer enters his living room, freshly showered and donned in clean pajamas, to the sound of your voice speaking quietly into your cellphone. He halts just before he enters his kitchen, straining to catch a snippet of your conversation. As he leans closer to the sound of your voice, Spencer halfheartedly chastises himself. First, he deceives you, now he’s resorting to eavesdropping. Rock, meet bottom.

He’s just about to wrench himself away and retreat to the couch, when:

“I really am sorry about cancelling, especially on such short notice.” A short stretch of silence follows. “Next Saturday? Oh. Um, yeah, I’ll let you know, okay?”

Spencer is very much like a popped balloon; the earlier feelings of elation leave him in a harsh gust. Next Saturday? He barely managed to derail this Saturday’s date! No way he could get away with it a second time.

In the midst of his inner turmoil, Spencer misses you exchanging goodbyes with the vet before collecting Spencer’s bowl of soup. He’s still standing there, absolutely crestfallen, when you round the corner. You nearly collide with his chest, narrowly avoiding it by skidding to a halt in front of him. Your eyes run up his frame, assessing him, until they rest on his face.

“You scared me, Spence,” you chuckle. You cock your head to the side. Spencer imagines his expression is none dissimilar to that of a disgruntled frog. “You feeling okay? You’re not going to puke again, are you?”

Honestly, he might. The idea of you rescheduling your date with the vet is about as vomit inducing as it gets.

“I’m fine,” Spencer says on an exhale. Funnily, it’s probably the biggest lie he’s told all day. “The shower helped.”

His delivery is flat, but you don’t seem to mind. You smile up at him, relieved, and Spencer’s chest aches.

“I was thinking you and I could watch a movie?” you offer, and Spencer nods his assent. He can’t fathom turning you down. Not when you’re wearing an old sweatshirt you stole from his closet and a pair of fuzzy socks with little hearts on them. The ache intensifies.

“What are we watching?”

You plop down on the couch and look at him expectantly. He follows in suit, settling in beside you.

“I was thinking that you could choose,” you murmur as you place the bowl in his hands. Spencer shoots a teasing smile your way as he raises the spoon to his mouth.

“You mean, you’re actually going to let me pick the movie? I should get sick more often.”

His cheek earns him an exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter. “You always pick the movie.” 

He can count on one hand the amount of times he’s gotten to pick the movie.

Spencer is about to launch into an impassioned rebuttal when the feeling of your fingers scratching against his scalp renders him speechless. His eyes dart to your face as you concentrate on scrolling through the TV guide, seemingly unaware of the effect the simple act has on him. Meanwhile, Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

You begin to read off a list of potential movies to him, but Spencer barely hears you. He’s practically purring as you twirl his curls around lithe fingers, his eyes threatening to flutter closed as an intense feeling of euphoria washes over him. Maybe it’s because he’s touch starved, or maybe it’s because it’s been so long since someone just looked after him. Whatever it is, Spencer embraces it wholeheartedly.

“-heard it’s pretty good. So, what do you say, Spence?”

Spencer pulls himself back to the present, blinking lazily at you. You’re looking at him, expectant, and Spencer’s eyes flit to the TV. His eyes skim its contents, reading briefly about a movie in which some family moves into a haunted house.

His face breaks out into a grin and he nods, because Spencer’s known you long enough to recognize that watching a horror movie usually results in you pressed tightly to his side and clinging to his hand. He also knows that nine times out of ten, you choose to watch a horror movie over anything else. No wonder he always lets you choose.

And sure enough, not even ten minutes in, Spencer is ditching his bowl of soup and pulling you into his arms. Once you’ve draped a blanket around the two of you settled in, you glance up at him.

“How are you feeling, Spence?”

Spencer responds by saying that he’s suddenly feeling much better. 

Spencer Reid - 1, Veterinarian – 0

--

Spencer’s not sure at which point he fell asleep. All he knows is that he certainly does not remember sprawling out across your body, nor does he remember tucking his head into the crook of your neck. But this is how he finds himself when the sun begins to pour in through his windows the next morning, and Spencer can’t bring himself to care about how he came to be there.

Spencer guesstimates that it’s no later than seven in the morning. You’re still fast asleep underneath him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically with every breath. It’s early, and it’s Sunday, and Spencer can’t think of a single reason to wake you. Instead, he snuggles in closer, because he’d be a fool not to enjoy this while it lasts.

Unfortunately, the shrill sound of Spencer’s ringing phone shatters the serenity. He prays that it won’t disturb you, that you’ll remain oblivious and continue to sleep, but that hope is shattered when you begin to shift underneath him. Spencer makes quick work of peeling himself off of you before dashing to his kitchen and snatching his phone off the table.

He’s prepared to verbally assault whoever has the audacity to defile the sanctity of lazy Sunday mornings when a quick peek into the living room finds you still fast asleep on his sofa. He smiles, soft and fond, before pressing the accept button and bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive.” Spencer’s smile transforms into a grimace. Apparently, Derek Morgan doesn’t believe in lie-ins. “I was preparing myself for a rescue mission.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I was asleep.”

Derek lets out a low whistle. “Who pissed in your Cheerios, Pretty Boy?”

“You, when you decided that it was acceptable to ring me before eight,” Spencer whisper shouts. He knows that he’s being touchy, to say the least, but who can blame him? Five minutes ago, he was cuddling with the most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. Now, he’s shooting the breeze with a colleague. Obviously, Spencer would prefer the former to the latter.

“Jesus, kid. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that girl of yours didn’t make it home, after all. You okay?”

The guilty feeling returns and Spencer cringes. “Uh, define ‘okay.’”

Derek curses on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, kid. Try not to beat yourself up about it, okay? There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you’ve just gotta put yourself out there. How’s this; you and me will go out next weekend and bar hop. I’ll teach you some Derek Morgan tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you’ll have forgotten all about her.”

“I don’t know, that might be hard.” Spencer scratches the back of his neck. “She’s asleep on my couch right now.”

A long stretch of silence comes from the other end of the line, and Spencer thinks for a moment that the call dropped. Unfortunately, he isn’t that lucky. A booming laugh erupts from the speaker and makes him jump out of his skin.

“My man!” Derek laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t think you had it in you, I’ll be honest.”

“It’s not what you think-”

“How did you manage that? Did the Good Doctor make a grand romantic gesture? Damn, I really hate that I missed that.”

“No, there were no gestures. And it’s not-”

Derek cuts him off. Again. “How’d she take the news? I’m assuming she took it well, if she stayed the night.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Spencer spits out, frustrated. “I… I told her I was sick. She came over to take care of me, and we fell asleep on the couch.”

Spencer’s proclamation is met with another long silence.

“So, you sabotaged the date?”

Spencer winces. “I did not sabotage it. I just… manipulated the situation a little.”

“Oh, you certainly did,” Derek chuckles. “How did you pull that off? I’ve seen you try to lie. That shit is laughable.”

Spencer opens his mouth to defend himself, but the pitter patter of socked feet approaching him from behind has his mouth running dry.

“Yeah, Spencer. How did you pull that off?”

Spencer had been correct in his earlier assumptions. The inevitable moment in which you called him out on his shit has arrived, and it’s every bit as mortifying as he expected. So mortifying that he can practically feel the blood drain from his face. And the thing is that he knows he deserves whatever you’re about to throw his way… it’s just that the thought of you being angry with him kind of makes him want to cry. And that would only add to the mortification.

He turns around slowly, his body rigid, until he’s met with the adorably rumpled vision of you with your arms crossed and your hair sticking up in all directions.

Spencer’s never seen anything quite so mesmerizing, and it hurts because he knows he’s ruined everything. He’ll never get to watch another scary movie with you tucked neatly against his side, or wake up in your arms again. He’ll never get to kiss you.

And the worst of all; Spencer will never get to tell you how he really feels. It’s a crying shame, because he thinks he could have been really good at loving you.

“Hey, Derek, I gotta go.”

Spencer presses the end call button and immerses himself in what has to be the most awkward stand-off of all time. You stand there, arms crossed, head cocked to the side with one hip jutted out. Spencer isn’t sure how you manage to look intimidating and endearing at the same time. He supposes the fuzzy socks are to blame.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Spencer is approximately three seconds away from dropping to his knees and groveling when you finally speak.

“You sabotaged my date.”

Spencer lets out a strangled laugh. Perhaps humor is the way to go? It couldn’t hurt to try. In his opinion, the situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I think sabotage is a strong word. I prefer the term obstruct.”

You let loose a laugh of your own, but this one holds no humor. “And I prefer keeping the company of people who don’t lie to me.” Okay, maybe it can get worse.

Spencer visibly deflates. It was a stupid idea. He’s never been a funny guy.

“I am so, so, so incredibly sorry.” Sorry for lying to you, that is. Spencer isn’t in the least bit apologetic for ruining your date. Given the chance, he’d do it again - in a more tactful way, of course. Preferably, in such a way that didn’t involve him laying in his bathroom floor. 

Spencer attempts to take a step forward, only to be rooted to the spot when you fix him with a look. He’s not funny but he is smart – smart enough to know better than to push it. 

“Why did you do it?”

Spencer was really hoping you wouldn’t ask that.

“I-I…”

Apparently, an eidetic memory doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to confrontations involving pretty girls. One quirk of an immaculately plucked eyebrow and Spencer loses the ability to recall a single word of the English language. It’s tragic, really.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“I didn’t want you to go on the date.” It’s like ripping off a band aid, the way the words tumble from his lips. It’s painless at first, but then the sting sets in when he realizes what he’s done. 

Your lack of reaction doesn’t help. Your face remains passive, as if he didn’t just offer himself to you on a silver platter. Spencer squirms uncomfortably.

“Why didn’t you want me to go on the date?”

God, this is excruciating. You’re clearly out for blood, and the twinkle in your eye shows just how much you’re enjoying this. Spencer would have never taken you for a sadist.

“Because…” Spencer trails off and allows his eyes to drift closed. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it his way. With his eyes closed, because he can’t bear the thought of looking you in the eye when you reject him. “B-Because I like you. A lot.”

Spencer hasn’t had a lot of practice at being wrong. In fact, he’s spent the majority of his life being right. It seems the universe is making up for that now, because he can’t seem to get a single goddamn thing right today.

You laugh at him. You actually laugh in his face. Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“You like me.” It isn’t a question.

Spencer keeps his eyes shut tight.

“Y-Yeah.”

You know how they say if you take away one of a person’s senses, all of the others are heightened? Spencer couldn’t disagree more. In the midst of his despair, he’s completely unaware that you’ve crossed the room and are now standing directly in front of him until you speak again.

“Well, that’s rather unfortunate,” you sigh. Spencer inhales a sharp breath when he realizes you’re close enough to touch. Still, he keeps his eyes closed.

“Uh, why is that?”

Spencer nearly jumps out of his skin when your hand reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw.

“Because, Spencer,” you murmur, silky and sweet. “I was hoping you just might love me.”

Spencer’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted by a lazy, contented smile. It’s similar to the one that greeted him when he opened his front door on that very first day, but it’s better somehow. Later reflection will determine that it’s better because it’s the kind of smile reserved just for him. And that’s all he’s ever wanted, really.

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” You tilt your head up and rest your palm on Spencer’s chest. His heartbeat is erratic, thundering hard against his ribcage. He’d surely be embarrassed if he wasn’t about to faint from shock. “Do you love me, Spencer Reid?”

Spencer doesn’t even have to think twice.

“More than anything.”

“Good.” Your thumb brushes across the apple of his cheek, eliciting a full body shudder. “I was beginning to think you would never catch up.”

Spencer must be hallucinating. That, or this is all a dream and any second now his alarm is going to go off. He subtly pinches himself on the thigh to test the theory. You can imagine his surprise when nothing changes. He doesn’t wake up in a pile of his own drool, and now the skin on his thigh stings.

“You . . . You like me, too?”

You shake your head. “No, Spencer. I love you, too. Why do you think I bake you cookies and spend all of my free time in your apartment?”

“Because my couch is better than yours?” Spencer deadpans.

“I mean, that certainly doesn’t hurt. But it’s not the only reason.”

“What about the vet?” It must be his guilty conscious talking, because Spencer cannot conjure up any other reason he has for asking such a moronic question. He, personally, could not care less about the vet. Full offense intended.

“Cameron is a nice guy, sure,” you trail off. Spencer doesn’t miss the way your eyes drift down to his lips before returning to his eyes. “But he’s not really my type.”

“And what is your type, exactly?” A giddy grin finds its way to Spencer’s face. He’s notorious for being chronically clueless, but even the master of imperception himself can see where this is going. 

You snort, and it’s adorable. “Liars, apparently.”

It’s impossible to determine who moves first, but that doesn’t really matter. What does matter is the end result of Spencer’s lips colliding with yours. It’s earth-shatteringly lovely; slow and sweet and tentative. There’s no rushing, no frantic fumbling of hands. Just the reverent drag of your lips against his, warm and intoxicating. 

Spencer eventually regains the use of his limbs and when he does, he’s snaking one arm around your waist as the other entangles itself in your wonderfully unruly hair. 

You sigh a happy sigh against his lips and Spencer’s heart soars. In a completely unforeseen turn of events, the possibility of more lazy Sunday mornings is now back on the table. Thank God he’s better at lying than he gave himself credit for. 

God, and Derek Morgan’s meddling ass. 

-

-

-

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter  Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom​: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

[jackson-t-escobar]

Call it magic

 ~ Chapter I ~

Pairing: Ivar x Heahmund (Modern!AU)

Word count: 1.1 k

Summary: How to deal with a breakup? Ivar still doesn’t know, even after a few months. And when he meets his ex again one day, the chaos is perfect - between immature brothers, sex with the ex and the decision whether to forgive or to forget.

Tags: hurt/comfort, fun, smut, fluff, family bonds, brotherly love, age difference, jealousy.

If you want to be part of the tag list (or be removed, doesn’t matter xD), just send me a DM. I will not post this on AO3, this will be a tumblr story only. I hope you enjoy this!

@youbloodymadgenius​ @jadelynlace​

Ivar stared out the window, watching people scurrying past with umbrellas or something else over their heads to escape the thick drops. They were almost all running, and the street was slowly filling with the cold water - the lights of the cars reflected in the rain, almost bathing the surroundings in a magical, warm atmosphere. Ivar was glad to be inside - his fingers clawed more fiercely into his hoodie, and he rested his chin lightly on his folded forearms while his blue eyes followed the drops on the window.

It had been a few months since Heahmund and he had parted ways. And although Ivar had enjoyed the time off for a very long time, really letting off steam - he was slowly getting to a point where it didn't seem to be going any further. It was now autumn, and the days were increasingly overshadowed by rain and cold; the time when you sat in front of the fireplace in the evening with your partner, in front of the TV, watching Netflix. Autumn days were cuddling, baking cakes and cookies, watching the bad weather. Preferably with a warm arm around the middle of your body, pulling you closer as soon as there was even a slight shiver at the thought of being outside.

The breakup had only really hit Ivar consciously a few weeks after the actual breakup. They had been together for almost a year, but not publicly - since Ivar had still been 17 at the time, and not even close to being of age. It had been best to lie in bed with Heahmund in the evening, while Hvitserk - the only one who had known - had covered for him. Had told their parents lies about why Ivar was gone so often on weekends. And why his grades had gone down just before he graduated from high school, because he had only had the older man on his mind all the time. Heahmund had been 30 when it had ended.

"Hey, do you plan to watch TV like a normal person again sometime, or is someone out there running around naked?" his brother Hvitserk's voice interrupted the silence; Ivar didn't flinch, but cursed inwardly because he had bitten his lower lip slightly when he was startled. He did not say anything at first, but tried to remove his slightly sad expression from his face. After all, Hvitserk didn't necessarily have to know that he'd hit rock bottom once again.

"I like to look outside. Of course, you uneducated cretin don't understand that because your IQ also only lasts from morning to noon," Ivar said quietly; he released the clasp from his hoodie and with a casual movement turned to Hvitserk, who also sat down on the wooden floor with his younger brother.

For a moment they looked at each other, then Hvitserk snorted softly. "Is it still because of him? You need to forget about him for once, honestly."

"How am I supposed to forget him, huh? Unless you mean your tip that you use 90% of the time," Ivar snarked, and Hvitserk raised his eyebrows with a grin.

"Fucking is the best cure for everything, Ivar. Headaches? Fucking. You're late? Never mind, one more round will do. You actually have to work? Lay the colleague." he said, amused, and Ivar rolled his eyes with a slight click of his tongue.

"I'm surprised you get so many women anyway. They must smell your stupidity - stupid fucks well, as we all know. It almost can't be anything else."

"Ah, is that so? And you?"

"Me?" Ivar said quietly; his gaze went back out the window for a moment, then he sighed softly. "I've been trying out, haven't I? You know that, too. But somehow... somehow, they're all... shallow. And stupid, like you."

 "That's no reason to mope, after all, when you can blow something else," Hvitserk said, earning a juicy kick from Ivar against his upper arm in return, which he merely commented with a slight "Ouch!" and a laugh, while Ivar himself couldn't help grinning. Sometimes his brother was really annoying, but his big mouth usually managed to get Ivar back on track. Or at least distract him for a few moments.

"What do you say... We go out for dinner and figure out where we can get drunk to death this weekend. Okay?" Hvitserk suggested, and Ivar took a deep breath in and out.

"Mom will kill me if I still don't know what I want to study after this weekend."

"Dude, I've got a cure for that: fucking a professor."

"Hvit, man. Be serious for once!"

"We'll do it when we drink. That's the best idea, that way we can do both in one go. Ha! Call me genius, my little brother."

Ivar rolled his eyes but slammed into Hvitserk's hand. His incisors dipped slightly into his lower lip again, and Hvitserk snorted softly.

"What was so great about him, please? Besides you being into dilfs, which is really disgusting. Forget him, he broke up with you on fucking Valentine's Day. What guy does something like that?"

For a moment, that sentence hit Ivar deep in the heart. He had repressed that day well all these months, but he couldn't forget it. Deeply it had been burned into his mind; he had planned so much for that day, had wanted to surprise Heahmund. But all he had gotten was an ice-cold breakup on the grounds that he hadn't been sure how he felt. And it had been Ivar's hate day ever since - never again would he feel good about Valentine's Day, and was already planning to poison happy couples in the park. He hadn't been able to explain to his mother why he had cried constantly through two weeks, and why he had hardly eaten anything in the evenings. Even his other, almost terroristic brothers had sensed something, and had left him alone that week.

"All right. You're right. The last time I saw him was a while ago, anyway," Ivar said, letting Hvitserk help him to his feet; and it wasn't until he was standing that he grinned slightly as Hvitserk's warm hand passed lightly over his shoulder.

"Exactly. He's probably grown fat, and much older. You won't recognize him if you ever meet again - unless Gandalf the Grey is suddenly standing in front of you on the dance floor, asking you for a drink."

For a moment the brothers stared at each other, then they both snorted and laughed. It was painful, yes - especially because it was the first time he had been truly in love. But it had to go on, and somehow Hvitserk was right - even if most of his suggestions and advice ended up with having sex with someone somewhere. Ivar took one last look outside before following Hvitserk into the kitchen; the streets outside were almost deserted, and the lightning of thunderstorms could be seen behind the city's skyscrapers. Oh, how Ivar loved autumn.

[astaroth1357]

Locker Room Talk- A Beelzebub Fanfic (BeelxGN MC)

(I’m not much of a whole-ass fic writer, so I don’t think this will be a regular occurrence, but I just had a scenario play out too perfectly not to give it an upgrade. I would hope this goes without saying, but harassment is not okay, I do not condone it, and if you are experiencing it you should look into what legal options you have available to report it. Please don’t try the Beel method. You’ll go to jail.)

Warnings: Sexual harassment, unwanted innuendo, implied possibility of sexual assault, vulgarity

"Locker Room Talk” isn't really Beel's thing. In all honesty, he’s never understood the appeal since saying gross stuff where only your friends can hear doesn’t make what you’re saying any better. Because he’s been playing sports for nearly all the time he's been in the Devildom, he’s been around his fair share of these kinds of conversations. Most of the time he just keeps to himself and tries to tune out whatever the other guys have to say. It gives him a bit of a reputation as the “innocent” one sure, but he just prefers not to play along with their pervy antics. If they wanted that, they could talk to Asmo for all he cared.

That’s not to say he didn’t like his teammates or anything. Most of them were pretty good people on the court and got their acts together off of it. And Beel really loved playing sports. He needed the physical outlet as a distraction from his hunger… If he had to put up with a little vulgarity from time to time, it seemed like a fair enough trade… Or. At least it was at first.

When MC came to the Devildom, they turned his whole world upside-down. Things between his brother had always been tense before and even Belphie had grown more distant with him after what happened to Lilith, but it felt like in only a couple of short months they were able to soothe everything over. His family has never been happier and neither has he… Plus, it helped that they were a good, and eager, cook.

His teammates sniffed out his crush for the little human fairly quickly. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly hiding it very well. The first time they ever came by one of their practices, a pouch of homemade cookies in hand, he could have kissed them on the spot. No one, not even Belphie, makes the time to go check on him during practice like that... He must have made his happiness pretty obvious because the human started making it a regular habit. At least two, sometimes three, times a week they would drop in with some kind of food for him. Store-bought, homemade, a small snack, or packed meal, it honestly didn’t matter to him. Anything that came from their hands felt three times more filling than it should have. 

He’s a little embarrassed to admit that after a few weeks the anticipation would start to show in his performance… If they were on their way he could usually smell whatever they had packed heading his direction and he’d play extra aggressively just to get to a break faster. He'd mow everybody else over just to have an excuse to go meet them at the gate. He’s been more than a little reckless before and thinking back on it can make him wince, but he usually forgets all about those little mishaps as soon as he’s met by their smiling face. 

“Hey, Beel! How is practice going?” They’d ask him. And no matter how he answers, all he’d think would be, “Never as good as right now…”

It was around the time that his teammates put it together that the teasing started. It was innocent enough at first. They’d pick on him for having a little crush on the exchange student but it was always lighthearted. Nothing worse than maybe the occasional,

“Oi Beel? Did you get yourself a housewife/husband? Good for you.” or “They’ll cook for you?? What a steal!” Nothing that bad. At least, nowhere near as bad as it would get.

As the weeks passed it seemed like his teammates were expecting something out of him... Like, was he supposed to make a move on them? Though Beel really did want to be with the MC, there were a lot of complications… His brothers being a big one. Most have made no secret that they’re also pretty fond of them too, Mammon especially, and it felt wrong to make another rift in the family right after it took so long to patch the first one… Of course, his teammates didn’t know that. And they didn’t care. All they wanted to do was amp up the pressure…

“Hey, Beel, did you see what your honey was wearing today? I think they’re sending signals. You should probably jump on that, you know?” When it first started, he couldn’t actually believe what he was hearing. Sure, their little jokes sounded like innuendo but they kept things just veiled enough that he could have been reading into it. He’d get uncomfortable, but brush it off easy enough. However, it only ever got worse from there.

“Yo Beel, you boning that human yet? What? No?? What the hell are you waiting for? We see you like them so just do it!” It would grate on his nerves...

“Beel, how’s your sweetheart been doing? Still not fucking, right? Bet they’re getting lonely…” He’d tell them to stop. At first politely, then more forcefully.

“Look, man, if you don’t start taking charge then they’re going to get antsy. Plenty of other guys are here looking to get their dicks wet… Just look at your brothers, am I right?” After a while, he started shouting. But his aggravation only seemed to fuel the fire.

“I bet someone will have them bent over and forgetting all about you by the end of the week.” Eventually, he went to the coach but he didn’t care. “It’s just ‘Locker Room Talk.’ Grow up,” is all he got in response. It didn’t feel like it was just that anymore, but he started to doubt himself anyway... Was he overreacting? Every bone in his body wanted to go on a rampage whenever they started to pester him but wasn’t it all just words? He could endure words, couldn’t he? Besides, RAD has a strict no-violence on school grounds policy on its athletes. Even if he did get a good slug in, then he’d been thrown out of future games for the rest of the season.

Their words were just words. Gross, awful words, but words nonetheless. Sure. Whatever. He could endure that… but only that.

On the day he nearly lost it completely, it was right after their last practice before a big game the next night. The whole team was amped to go, but Beel was trying to keep to himself. Get in, get out, and go back to the House where MC was probably waiting. He’s long since stopped sticking around for socializing with the others. He had just finished changing when one of his teammates cornered him by his locker, the slimiest grin already plastered on his face.

“Look, Beel… We’re going to do you a favor, alright? Since you’re taking so long with this… The guys and I have decided to invite your little human to an “after-game party” tomorrow. To celebrate our victory and all that. Bet they’re dying for some action since you’re not giving any. You’re free to come if you want. Though… they might not be paying much attention to you.” Beel could feel his eye twitch as he watched the scumbag’s snickering face. That face. That fucking face. He'd never seen or heard anything so revolting in his life and-

For a few seconds, all he could see was red.

When he came back to his senses, he already had the sleazebag pinned against the lockers by the windpipe, fingers gripping his neck so tightly that his nails drew blood. At some point, he must have slipped into his demon form because the vibrations of his wings behind him made a sound not unlike a warning growl. His expression must have been ferocious because in the guy's eyes he saw nothing but pure terror. He’d never felt this much rage and hatred together before. Surely, at this moment, he ought to look more like Satan or Lucifer on a rampage than he does himself.

“If you say one more thing about that human, I will kill you. Touch them once and I will eat you. Are we clear?" His hand clenches further, making him receive a gargled cough in response. At this point, he could have probably flicked his wrist and snapped his neck in two. "Then pass it on." He tossed the man back into the metal lockers and watched him sink to the floor, clawing at his own throat and gasping for air. Oh yeah, his sporting days for this semester are over. But if it keeps him away from this trash? He’ll take it.

Of course, he made sure that he doesn’t stick around much longer. He left the scumbag to sort himself out, grabbing his gym bag quickly. He barely remembered to hide his demon form again before walking out of there, his nerves are practically shot already. Thankfully, though, he didn’t make it three steps out the door before a familiar face stopped him in his tracks. MC, who must have been waiting patiently for him this entire time, is leaned next to the bleachers with a backpack in one hand and a deli sandwich in the other. The perfect smile they got when they saw him signaling their blissful ignorance of all that just went down before.

“Hey Beel! How was pr-Oomf!” His body colliding with theirs cuts off their question. Beel’s gym bag lies already forgotten in the dirt, ditched so his arms could embrace them fully. It’s just a hug, a tight hug, but there’s a certain desperation to it. Though he knew it was ridiculous, a part of him was terrified that his teammates may just come up and try to snatch them if he let go…. After some time to process, he felt their head settle against his chest. He worried that they can hear his raging heartbeat... Would they pick up on how pissed he was just a moment ago?

“Ah… Not that great then, huh…?” His arms tense, pressing them closer against the fabric of his shirt. Should he tell them what he's been putting up with…? Does he even have the stomach for it? Letting out a sigh through his nose, he simply grunted out, “No…” 

“Well, what’s wrong then?” So many things… He just wanted to pick them up and fly them away from all this crap. He wanted to rip the tongues out from anyone who's said a bad word about them. He wanted to keep holding them in his arms, shielding them from anything and everything that could possibly take that perfect smile away… But they probably don’t know that, do they?

“Beel? Are you okay...?” He let a slow sigh draw out from his nose, resting his head atop theirs. All too soon, he'd have to let them go. But, for the moment, he could just hold them and wish this feeling would never end...

“Only if you are…”

[korra-the-red-lion]

Lonely.

I will forever be salty that LoT doesn’t let Sara explore her grief a bit more, it seems. Anyway, enjoy some angst with a happy ending!

---

Sara put down the make-up brush and stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but she felt confident in what she did for herself. Lightly, she put on the finishes touches to her lips and was ready for the big event.

In just a few short hours she’d be marrying the love of her life.

But why did her heart feel so heavy? Shouldn’t she be overjoyed that she was marrying Ava? But it only took one quick glance to the photo sitting her in locket to remind her why she felt this way. Laurel and Oliver smiled up at her, their faces alive and happy. Sara picked up the locket, holding it gently in her hand. At least Oliver got to marry the life of his life, Laurel never even got that chance. Both men she loved were tragically ripped away from her, before her own life was as well.

Although Laurel told her it was the right decision, Sara couldn’t help but still feel guilty that she didn’t use the Loom of Fate to bring her back. Why did someone like her get so many chances at life yet her sister didn’t? It was a cruel thing, fate was. Sara would have gladly given one of her several returns to life in exchange for Laurel to be here on her wedding day.

And Oliver too, who would never see his daughter grow old. How was it fair that someone who gave so much and rarely asked for anything in return was not allowed this once in a lifetime opportunity. At least Mia had Felicity, who was one tough cookie. It just felt like some cosmic joke to her. Oliver wasn’t perfect, but he deserved to grow old with his wife and children.

Sara blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. She needed to stop thinking about this. About them. Today was supposed to be about her happiness, her love. About her and Ava finally retiring from saving the universe and enjoying life. It wasn’t an easy decision for them to make, especially for her. Sara had been fighting since she was teenager. What would the domestic life feel like? Going for walks with having to watch your back? Talking about that silly thing the neighbours did with Ava? Sara honestly couldn’t even picture it in her mind.

There was a knock at her door, startling from her thoughts. Sara put on a brave face and called out, “Come in!”

Nyssa walked into the room with a smile adorning her face. Sara smiled back, but Nyssa was not fooled. She had known Sara for a very long time and knew when she was hiding her feelings. Nyssa closed the door softly before turning to face her former love.

“What is wrong, Beloved?”

Sara smiled softly at the familiar expression. “It’s nothing, really. Just got thinking.”

“Thinking about what?”

“How much I miss them,” she said, looking down at the locket again.

Nyssa nodded in understanding as she came to sit next to Sara. “I miss them as well. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for you.”

Sara clutched the locket, holding it to her heart. “I wish they could be here to see this. I want to let them know that I only got this far because of their support. Especially Laurel’s…” the tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

“Sara…” Nyssa reached for her hand, squeezing it in comfort. “They may not be here physically, but I know Oliver and your sister. They’re watching from wherever they are currently. They would be so happy for you, so happy that you found the love they wished for you. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” said Sara with a small voice, “but that doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

Nyssa hugged Sara tightly. All she could hope was that Sara could feel her emotions through the hug. That it was okay to grief those you’ve lost, you just cannot let it consume you. Sara hugged back just as tightly, wondering when the emptiness in her heart would finally feel a little more whole.

Another knock at the door broke the pair apart. Ray stuck his head into the room, his smile instantly dropping when he saw Sara. He wasted no time in walking across the floor and scooping the tiny assassin into a bear hug.

“I have no idea what’s upsetting you, Sara, but I’m not going to let it ruin your wedding day,” he said firmly.

“Ray…”

Ray put Sara onto the floor before getting to work straightening out her wedding dress. “Sara, I’ve known you for a very long time. Heck, I think you’re my oldest friend at this point. You were there for me when Nora and I tied the knot. We were there for each other through all the hardships that we’ve face. I would never let you do this alone.” Ray stepped back to make sure there wasn’t a single wrinkle left. With a satisfied nod, Ray placed a gentle hand on Sara’s shoulder.

“You deserve happiness and peace, Sara Lance,” said Ray with watery eyes. “I believe that more than anything else in the world.”

Sara swallowed thickly while blinking out tears. “Thank you…” She fanned at her laugh with a wet laugh. “Oh God, my make-up. Ava is going to freak out if I don’t get a move on things.”

“I believe I can help with that,” said Nyssa with a smirk. She held up the eye make-up with a fire in her eyes. “I am quite good with my hands, after all.”

Sara burst out into laughter while Ray looked pleasantly confused. Together, Ray and Nyssa got Sara ready to walk down the aisle.

XXX

Quentin looked like he was trying his hardest not to cry as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Sara squeezed his arm tightly as they did, trying to keep her raging emotions in check.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” he said in a choked whisper.

“Thanks, dad.” Sara sniffled slightly. “I’m really happy too.”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he left her at the alter. He joined his wife in the front row. Sara took in the crowd. Jax and his wife were here with their kids. Thea and Roy were in the crowd chatting quietly to Dinah. Sara couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when she noticed that Dinah had her pinkie finger linked with Laurel 2.0. That was unexpected. Barry and Iris were sitting next to Kara, Alex, Lena, and Kelly. Ray waved to her, his arm linked with a very happy looking Nora, who was also waving. Mona was seated next to Gary, who was already ugly crying. Nate was on Ray’s right side, and he was beaming up at Sara, Zari holding his free hand. Charlie was with her band, providing the music for the wedding. Amaya came from the past to also watch her former captain and friend tie the knot. She was seated next to the Hawks, which they had been hard to track down, but Kendra had been Sara’s first friend aboard the Waverider, and there was no way she was going to miss this for the world. Nyssa sat with Sin, who was looking so much older than Sara last remembered.

All her friends and family were here, and it was a wonderful sight to see.

Charlie looked up towards the doorway and motioned to her band to start playing the music. Sara’s heart was beating like crazy with anticipation as the doors swung open.

Ava walked out from behind the curtains. Her smile was wide and there were already tears in her eyes as she walked towards Sara. Her dress was nothing fancy, but that’s exactly what suited her best. Mick was walking her down the aisle. They had an unlikely friendship, but Ava had helped Mick with so many things in his life, he felt it only fair to return a favour. There were tears in his eyes as he helped her up the steps. He gave Sara a quick nod before clomping back down to take his seat next to Spooner, who was sitting with Astra and Behrad.

“Alright,” said Diggle with a clearing of his throat. “Sara and Ava both asked that this not be fancy. Sara said to me, ‘I already have enough drama in my life, I don’t need it at my wedding too,’ and I couldn’t agree more.”

This drew laughs from the crowd.

“So, Sara, do you have anything you want to say to Ava?” asked Diggle.

Sara nodded quickly. “Ava, I just want to say that you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world. You just get me, and that is so important. We’ve had our rough patches, but we always got through them together. You’ve been with me through thick and thin. I love you so much that it makes me lie awake at night thinking about it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” She smiled brightly, ignoring the tears that flowed freely down her face now.

“Ava, do you have anything you want to say to Sara?”

“Yes.” Ava took a deep shaky breath. Sara could feel the tremors in her hands as she spoke. “I hated you the first time I saw you.” Everyone laughed at that, including Sara and Ava. “But you slowly broke down my walls and taught me how to really live. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would still be working for Rip, without ever realizing the person I could have been. You helped me because the best version of me, because that’s what’s being a person is all about. Helping each other grow. I hope that we can continue to do just that, because you’ll be spending every moment with me, and I can’t wait.”

Diggle smiled at the two of them before saying. “Okay, well, go ahead then!”

Sara dipped Ava and gave her the most passionate kiss she could muster. It would take some time, but she was hopeful that Ava would help her fill the hole in her heart. She already had, in some way. Because Sara knew that this right here meant that she was no longer lonely. She would always grieve the death of her Laurel, her wonderful and beautiful sister, and her best friend in Oliver. But she also knew that Ava would always be there for her, every step of the way.

And she was ready to see where that path led.

[beelsbaby]

yummy love | Beelzebub

Chapter Eight: Christmas cookies

Summary: Everyone knows that Beel simps for you the most, even you, but you think Beel deserves better. Can Beelzebub break down your walls?

I’m sorry for not posting for two days, college sucks 😡 but here it is! Part 8!

Also, if you haven’t please go check out my 200 followers celebration post, I’d love for all of you guys to participate!

Previous | Next

As you and Asmo walk into the boutique, you were met with different fragrances. It reminded you of Bath & Bodyworks from the human world.

“Y/n! Come smell this lotion, its scent is devildom berries!” Asmo exclaimed while picking up the bottle. You walk over to him and he hovers to bottle under your nose. It smelled like strawberries, raspberries, and and cherries.

“It smells like the berries from back in my world.” You smiled, remembering how much you miss the food from your world.

“You miss your world?” Asmo asks you. You nod, “I do and I don’t. I don’t know if that makes any sense. I mean, I miss the food, the sun, the snow. But I didn’t have so many people who appreciated me like you all do. I love you guys. I’m rambling, I’m sorry!”

Asmo laughs a little as he puts two bottles in the basket, “You’re too cute, Y/n! We love you, too, obviously. Who wouldn’t?”

You smile as you pick up a lotion bottle and smell it. It smells like Christmas cookies. Beel would love Christmas cookies.

“Beel, hm?” Asmo arched his eyebrow. Did you say that out loud? Ugh, of course you did. Will he say anything? Will he tease you?

“Yes, Beel would eat anything, so he’d definitely like them.” He giggles, then gasps “Here it is! The new cleanser!”

You have never been so grateful for a cleanser than you are now. You watch as Asmo puts the entire cleanser line in his basket. You smiled, he looks like a kid in a candy store.

“You ready to go, Y/n? Ooooh what are you buying?”

You turn around and follow Asmo to the cash register, “Oh, just this lotion. Smells nice.”

Asmo looks at your hand and sees the lotion. Winter Delight. The one you said smells like cookies. Also the one you mentioned Beel with. Hmm he thought, this might be easier than I anticipated.

“Wonderful!” He smirks. You pause, it’s almost the same smirk Mammon gave you as you were leaving, you decide to ignore it and pay for the lotion. Asmo meets you at the entrance of the store, “I want to get a new jacket, do you mind, darling?” Asmo asks. You shake your head and giggle, “Nope as long as you model for me!”

“Oh, darling, of course I can!” He pulls you towards the store.

Asmo walks towards the jackets section. You decide to let him do his thing and walk around the store yourself. You don’t see asphalt anywhere so decide to send him a message to ask where he is typical he doesn’t respond he’s in his own little world right now you put your phone back in your pocket. When you look up and see the cutest outfit on the floor display and walk towards it it was really nice

“Oooh Y/n! You’d look so cute in that!” Asmo suddenly gushes. You jump a little, not expecting him to have been behind you. “Oh no no, I was just looking at it! I don’t— is that the jacket you want?” You see a light pink, almost white jacket in his hand.

He smiles, “Yes! What do you think?”

“Try it on!” You laugh. He takes off his current jacket and politely hands it to you. He puts on the new jacket and poses, “Thoughts?”

“It looks amazing on you, Asmo! Definitely get it.” His smile grows instantly as he takes in your compliment. He starts to go on a tangent on how he’ll need new shoes to match. You look out the store and your eyes land on the store across the mall. It’s a spice store. Beel’s sauce!

“Hey Asmo?” You interrupt.

“Oh, yes, Y/n?” He looks at you, he can’t read what you’re feeling, “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I just need to run into that store really quick, do you mind if I run in while you pay?” You ask. He looks at the story were pointing to, Devildom Spices and Sauces. He smiles, “Of course not! I’ll meet you at the spa?” You nod and run off the other store.

Asmo chuckles, you both are SO whipped for each other, it’s ridiculously cute!

As you enter the store you walk around the entire store before you finally spot the sauce. You grab two and head towards the cash register. That’s when you noticed a box of chocolates. Hershey’s. Wait a minute you think these are from the human world! You quickly grab three boxes and rush to the cash register. As you’re paying, you get a phone call.

“Hello Y/n? I’m at the spa!” Asmo announces as you picked up the phone.

“Oh I’m sorry Asmo! I must of lost track of time, I’ll be right there!”

You hang up and quickly thank the demon that attended you and rush out the store.

When you get to the spa you see Asmo with three bags instead of one.

“It seems someone got carried away!” You giggle. He laughs, “Yes, but I just need matching accessories! It was vital!”

Both walking to the massage rooms and get situated. Now it’s the time as well thinks.

“Y/n, darling?” Asmo speaks up.

“Yes, Asmo?” You answer back.

He pauses, trying to find the right words. “Y/n, can I ask you something?”

You look up and see how serious he looks. You’re not used to him looking so serious. You knew something was up. Especially the moment he didn’t make a single comment as you were undressing in the dressing rooms. But you are interested in his question, “Sure.”

“Why don’t you think you’re enough for Beel?”

You pause, not expecting that question let alone the bluntness of it you both hear the masseuses walk in so you put your heads back down but you know Asmo is still waiting for your answer.

“I-I don’t know. I mean just look at him he’s the sweetest guy ever met. He’s just so kind and caring. And his smile just lights up the room. He just does so much for everyone he loves and he tries his best to be the very best he can be and don’t get me started on how cute he is! Not even in the human world have I seen somebody so cute and tall and loving! He’s just... perfect. Everything he does gives me butterflies but... I don’t even know who I am, who I want to be. He deserves the very best and I don’t know if I can give him that.”

Asmo is silent for a while, contemplating your speech. Finally, he knows exactly what to tell you.

“Y/n. I just don’t think it’s fair for you to make that decision for him. He might not be the smartest but he knows what he wants and that’s you. It doesn’t matter to him that you don’t know who you want to be, he’s obviously waiting there for you, he wants to help you and wants to be with you! The way he talks about you— I mean it’s just so cute when he just lights up when your name is mentioned. Don’t let the negatives make a decision so important for you, for him. That big guy loves you. He has proved time and time again that no matter how many times you put him down it doesn’t kill his determination to be with you. Can’t you see that means something? That you mean something to him? Give him a chance and most importantly, give yourself a chance. You both deserve to be happy.”

When Asmo stops talking, you could feel tears falling down your and you’re pretty sure the masseuse could feel the tension slip away from your body.

“Y/n?” Asmo asks, scared he upset you.

“I’m okay I’m just a sensitive bitch” you laugh while wiping your tears. He slowly chuckles along, still a little wary.

“Look let me think about this with a clear head, then I’ll get back to you”

He smiles, he knew only he could have completed this task, “Of course, Y/n.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I put a lot of emotion in this oOPS

It’s all coming together😈

Let’s see what Belphie can do!

Tag list (Open):

@pumpkinpatchkid

@kpop-and-otome

@moremilkforkags

@witch-o-memes

@aspenflower17

@0-miles-away

@mangobangi

@bakudekuwa

@fluffimemes

@minniboe

@clawsbox

[gra-sonas]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes Characters: Alex Manes, Michael Guerin Additional Tags: Canon Disabled Character, Dogs

Summary:

Alex's face softens. "I know you're careful. Sorry, it's just hard not to worry. But back again to my initial question. Do you know what today is?”

"I don't know, Alex. It's February 13th, so I didn't forget Valentine's Day or something. We ruled out the thing at Isobel's, and it's still Saturday. No matter how much I'm wrecking my brain, I can't think of anything else. Please tell me I didn't forget anything important." 

"No, you didn't, no worries. I'll put you out of your misery. What do you think about taking a short trip across town?"

This is my contribution for day 3 of @malex-cupid. 3.3K of fluffy Malex.

Dialogue prompt: “Do you know what today is?”

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

 “Do you know what today is?”

Michael pretends to think about the answer before he says "Saturday."

Alex rolls his eyes. "Smartass."

Michael smirks. "Takes one to know one."

Alex smirks back. "I'm badass," he says.

Michael laughs. "True."

"Come on, Michael, try again. What day is today?"

Michael groans. "It's that stupid thing Isobel roped us into attending, isn't it? I thought it was next weekend."

"That one is next weekend. Which reminds me, we have to get our suits from the cleaners." Alex pulls a face. He hates wearing formal attire, especially ties. But Isobel would have their heads if they didn't dress up for her fancy party.

"We'll get through it together, and any chance we get, we'll hide in one of Isobel's guest rooms, and I'll suck you off." Michael waggles his eyebrows suggestively. He looks ridiculous, but it makes Alex laugh.

"If she catches us, we won't live to see another day," he points out.

"Well, I'll have to be fast then. It's unfortunate that she also can pick locks with her brain these days."

"You're not going to suck me off in two minutes, if anything I'll claim that my stump's hurting and we can go home early, where we'll take our sweet time sucking each other off."

Michael looks worried. "Has your stump given you any trouble lately? Should I take a look at the prothesis?"

Alex smiles. "No, Michael. It fits perfectly, and for some reason it even adjusts to the occasional swelling? I have no idea how you engineered it, but it almost feels as if the prosthetic becomes a part of me when I put it on. It's incredible, and it has given me that much more quality of life." He leans closer and kisses Michael, soft and sweet. Michael beams.

"I'm so glad. The material is so cool, I'm glad that I decided to give it a try, and now that I no longer need to rebuild a working console, I want to find out what other useful things I can build using it."

"As long as you are careful and—," Alex starts.

"Yes, I know," Michael interrupts him. "No worries, I've been paranoid about hiding who and what I am my entire conscious life on this planet. I won't risk it now just to brag about an invention that includes alien tech."

Alex's face softens. "I know you're careful. Sorry, it's just hard not to worry. But back again to my initial question. Do you know what today is?”

"I don't know, Alex. It's February 13th, so I didn't forget Valentine's Day or something. We ruled out the thing at Isobel's, and it's still Saturday. No matter how much I'm wrecking my brain, I can't think of anything else. Please tell me I didn't forget anything important." 

"No, you didn't, no worries. I'll put you out of your misery. What do you think about taking a short trip across town?"

Michael nods. "Sure, I have no other plans for today. Can we drive past the Crashdown to pick up some coffee?"

Alex looks at his watch. "If we call from the car and ask whether Javier could bring our order to the curb, we can do that. But we have to leave now. We have an appointment at eleven."

Michael pulls Alex up from the couch. "Okay, let's go. I'm really curious what you're up to!"

They call the Crashdown from the car and Arturo himself stands at the curb to hand them coffee and a box with heart shaped cookies through the window. Michael tips him generously, and then they're on their way again.

When they pull up outside of a red building fifteen minutes later, Michael's eyes widen.

"Alex, this is the animal shelter. What are we doing here?"

Alex turns around in his seat to face Michael. "Well, I thought we could go inside and look at all the rescue dogs in there, and if we like one, and the dog likes us, that we should take them home for a trial run. What do you think?"

Michael's eyes are wet. "Alex. This is—perfect. So much better than some kitschy Valentine's gift. Don't get me wrong, any gift from you would be amazing, but a dog, Alex. A dog! We've talked about this so often. Why now?"

Alex's smile softens. "Because we talked about it so often. It's pretty obvious how much you want a dog, and honestly, I want one, too. My therapist has talked about a therapy dog in the past, but I think a dog that's ours is even better. It can either stay with me while you're working, or come with you to the junkyard when I'm meeting clients. And if push comes to shove, we have a large yard where the dog can stay on its own for a couple of hours."

Michael flings himself across the car's middle console and pulls Alex into a fierce hug. "Thank you, Alex. Best pre-Valentine's gift ever."

Alex smiles into Michael's shoulder. "Come, let's go inside, I have a feeling we'll meet a very special someone in there today."

They enter the shelter, and a young woman shows them the way to the large backyard behind the building. Three different agility courses are set up, and there's a pool where three dogs are playing with an old football, splashing in and out of the water.

"This is what heaven must look like," Michael says, and the awe in his voice tells Alex that coming here was an excellent decision. He's counting at least twenty different dogs of various sizes, and they all seem happy and excited. He turns to the young woman.

"So, how are we going to do this, Janet. Are we supposed to sit down and wait until a dog approaches, or should we throw a ball or something?"

Janet points at a bench that's set up under a large tree. "If you want to take a seat, I'll get a basket with some toys for you to use and play with the dogs." She leaves, and Michael leads Alex over to the bench where they sit down.

Most of the dogs have stopped playing and running around, they are looking at Alex and Michael instead. Michael takes Alex's hand. "I'm nervous."

Alex squeezes his hand. "I don't think they are dangerous, relax, Michael," he soothes.

Michael laughs. "Not what I mean. I'm nervous because I know one of them's going to be ours, and I want to make a good impression."

Five dogs are brave enough to come closer, their tails wagging. Michael holds his hand out for them, and once the brave dogs are close enough, they start sniffing and licking Michael's fingers. After that it's just one large furry puppy pile with Alex and Michael in the middle, and more dogs joining. They pet as many dogs as they can reach, always careful to read the body language of each of them. But they are all very friendly and excited to meet them.

Janet returns, a large basket filled with various toys in her arms. Some of the dogs start barking happily, apparently, they know what the basket means. Janet sets it down in front of the two men. "Many of our dogs love to play fetch, you can also go over to the agility courses and see what each of the dogs can do."

Michael picks up the basket. "Thanks, Janet, I think I'll go over and play with the dogs. Do you want to come with me, Alex?"

"I'm actually good right here for another moment, thanks. Maybe I'll come over to you later."

Michael smiles at Alex and gives him a kiss. "Okay, love you."

Michael squeezes Michael's arm. "Love you, too. Have fun!"

Michael walks over to one of the agility courses, basket in hand. And like he's the Pied Piper, most of the dogs follow him, yipping excitedly.

Janet turns to Alex. "I'll leave you to it. If you have any questions, I'll be inside."

"Thank you, Janet, I appreciate it." She turns around and walks back to the house, and Alex focuses his full attention on Michael. He's started to throw balls in different directions (no doubt giving some of them a little extra spin with his telekinesis, but there's no one around, so Alex relaxes and enjoys watching Michael having the time of his life).

There's one dog in particular, that seems to have the largest heart eyes around Michael. It doesn't run after any balls Michael's throwing, instead he picks up a plushie from the basked and carefully places it in Michael's outstretched hand. Michael pats the dog's head and tells him what a good boy he is. Alex smiles. 

The dog is gorgeous, a little taller than a German Shepard, dark fur and a tail that's wagging a million miles a minute. Alex can picture himself and Michael with the dog in front of the fire. Not a lapdog exactly, but he doesn't mind.

A minute later, the dog leaves Michael's side and while Michael's busy getting acquainted with some of the other dogs, Alex's eyes follow the black dog. He walks over to a sunny spot near the pool, where smaller dog's curled up in the grass, seemingly uninterested in playing with Michael.

Going by the fur marking's, Alex thinks it could be a beagle. He smiles, remembering Mimi's "prophecy". The black dog noses at the beagle's ears and licks them, then he nudges the dog as if to say, "come with me".

It takes another few nudges before the dog gets up (and yes, it's definitely a beagle, an older one by the looks of it), and follows its black brother over to Michael.

When Michael notices the duo, he stops throwing balls and kneels down. "Oh, do you want me to meet your friend? Hello sweetheart." He scratches the beagle behind the ears and the dog almost goes cross-eyed with pleasure. The black dog wiggles closer and buries his nose in Michael's half-open shirt.

Michael looks over to Alex, and Alex smiles. "Guess we're not just picking up one dog, huh?"

"Would that be okay? They seem to be friends, and I couldn't stand to leave one behind, especially since this little lady seems to be a bit older. Do you think we can handle two dogs?"

Alex gets up from the bench and walks over, and the moment he reaches Michael, they look up at him and start nosing at his feet and legs. When they are finished sniffing at him, they look at him with huge puppy eyes. 

"Oh, you two, this isn't fair." He kneels down carefully, holding on to Michael's shoulder for balance. The moment he feels stable, he has his arm full of two dogs, one large black one, and a smaller beagle. 

They lick his face and almost barrel him over in their excitement, if it wasn't for Michael's steadying hand (and a smidge of telekinesis) at his back. "Thanks," he manages to get out between increasingly wet and enthusiastic doggy kisses.

Michael chuckles. "Guess these two have made their decision. Now it's up to us. Can we, and do we want to adopt two dogs? I know we've talked about a dog, and this morning I didn't even know we'd get one. And now there are these two. What do you think?"

Alex smiles. "You know, we have a big house, an even bigger garden, I don't see why we shouldn't adopt both. They insist on a two week trial anyway, so why don't we take these two sweethearts home with us and see how it goes?"

Michael manages to place a smacking kiss on Alex's cheek without them tumbling over, then he helps Alex stand up. The two dogs stay close to them and follow them back to the house.

They find Janet at the reception desk. She looks up when she hears them approach.

"Oh, that went quick. Did you meet a dog you like?"

Alex realizes that she can't see the two dogs at their feet from her position. "Actually, we met two dogs."

"Two?" Janet stands up and looks down. "Oh, I see. These are Buffy and Lando. They met here and it was love at first sight. They are pretty much inseparable, and since she's basically a senior dog, we'd rather not separate them, I'm sorry."

Alex shakes his head. "There's no need to separate them, we'd like to take both home with us for the trial period. You know, they picked us, and now it's our turn to pick them, and see whether we're a good match."

Janet's smile gets excited. "That's wonderful to hear. They've been here for a while, and the fact that we don't want to separate them has prevented their adoption so far. If you'd like to take them for a short walk, I need about twenty minutes to get all the papers ready. Leashes are over there by the door."

They return from their walk half an hour later, relaxed and smiling. Neither dog's wearing a leash anymore. When Michael notices Janet's look, he says, "She wouldn't leave our side, and he wouldn't leave hers, there really was no point in keeping the leashes on."

Janet nods and hands them a clipboard with several sheets of paper, yellow post-its marking the spaces where they need to sign. Alex grabs the clipboard and takes a seat at a nearby table, while Michael looks at the wall opposite of the reception, where several dozens of photos are pinned to a large cork board. Happy new pet owners with their adopted pets. He can't wait to add their photo to the wall.

Once all the papers are signed, Janet gets two large bags from a nearby storage room and hands them to Michael. "The bags contain bowls, leashes, and dog beds. We don't expect you to buy everything before it isn't clear that you'll adopt the dogs."

Michael nods. "Do they have favorite toys or blankets we should take with us?"

"No, they usually play with the toys we provide. I can put a few tennis balls into one of the bags if you want," Janet offers.

Alex shakes his head. "That won't be necessary. I—uhm, I actually may have bought some toys. And a box of tennis balls." His smile is a little sheepish, but Michael isn't having any of it. "You are brilliant, and I love you." He smacks a kiss on Alex's cheek.

"Alright, you've got my number, in case there are any issues, please don't hesitate to call. If everything goes according to plan, I'll see you in three days for the first mandatory visit."

They smile at her, bid their goodbyes, and when leave, their two new canine family members follow them unprompted.

"I have a really good feeling about this," Alex says once they are back in the car, both dogs comfortably snuggled up on the back seat.

"Me too," Michael admits. "You've made me a very happy man today, Alex. Truly the best pre-Valentine's gift ever." Alex laughs. "It's not just a gift for you, Michael, I'm also a very happy man today. I'm very excited that we're taking this next step." He looks back at the two sleeping dogs. "It already feels like they're part of the family."

On their way home, they stop at the pet store, and pay an obscene amount of money for dog food, bowls, leashes, harnesses, the most comfortable supersized dog bed (suspecting the dogs would rather share then sleep in two separate beds), and way too many toys. They don't care that this is only a trial, they know that Buffy and Lando are meant to stay with them.

When they get home and set everything up, the dogs immediately curl up in the large dog bed together, completely ignoring the two separate beds they put up to give them a choice. 

"We already know them so well," Michael says proudly, clinking his glass with Alex's. There's a fire burning in the fireplace, and they're sharing a bottle of red wine that goes well with the pizza they've ordered.

The dogs are snoring, and Alex's and Michael's hearts are full.

Michael goes on a quick walk with the dogs while Alex gets ready for bed. They're trying to keep the dogs out of their bedroom, but it's not happening. Lando drags in the dog bed in before they can close the door, and while they'll have to set boundaries eventually (because there are things they'd like to do in their bedroom without an audience), they won't start tonight.

They place the dog bed at the foot of their bed, and the dogs curl up together. "Uhm, we'll get to that eventually, I guess," Michael says, but then he lets himself being pulled into Alex's arms and they fall asleep within minutes.

It's a quiet night, and when they wake up in the morning, the dogs are already up to drink water in the kitchen. Alex and Michael exchange lazy kisses, until Michael wiggles out of Alex's embrace. "I'll take them out for a couple of minutes, that should do until we can go for a real walk after breakfast."

Alex gets up to pee, then makes a beeline for the kitchen to make coffee before he returns to their bedroom. He snuggles up under the covers, when he hears the front door open and shut, which means that Michael's back.

The dogs enter the bedroom first, and Lando walks up to Alex's side of the bed. He gets up on his hind legs and puts his front paws on the bedframe, like he's extra careful not to step on the mattress.

"Good morning, handsome. You are such a good boy, Lando," Alex croons and pats Lando's head. When he sees something gleam in the sunlight filtering through the blinds, he reaches for Lando's collar. There's a ring attached to it. A ring with an iridescent piece of an alien spaceship console embedded. 

Alex blinks back tears and tries to remove the ring from Lando's collar, when Michael drops on one knee next to the bed. His eyes look a bit wet, too.

"Alex Manes. You're not only the man of my dreams, you're the man of my life. We've been through so much, and I love you more than should be humanly – or alien-ly – possible. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Alex can't stop the tears from falling now, but he nods and reaches for Michael. They kiss and hug, and Michael helps Alex to remove the ring from Lando's collar. When Michael puts the ring on Alex's finger, it fits like a glove.

"Michael, the ring is extraordinary, thank you so much. I can't wait to marry you." They kiss again, but before Michael can get up from the floor, Alex pulls a thin silver chain out from under his pajama top he only put on a few minutes ago when he was in the bathroom. There's a ring attached to it. He opens the clasp and lets the ring fall into his open hand. Then he shows it to Michael. 

"Adopting a dog with you was only meant to be a first step, I'd been meaning to propose to you on Valentine's Day, though. I just love you so much, more than anything or anyone, and I want to share my life with you. Forever. Marry me?"

"Yes!" Michael's reply is short, but he barely waits for Alex to put the ring on his finger (it also fits perfectly), before he gets up and lets himself being pulled into Alex's outstretched arms. They laugh and kiss and tumble all over the bed, and Buffy and Lando start barking. Soon enough they manage to jump on the bed and join the celebration.

When Alex and Michael adopt Buffy and Lando officially two weeks later, they do so as Mr. and Mr. Guerin-Manes, their wedding rings clearly visible in their we've-adopted-a-dog celebratory photo.

[writingwithciara]

Take Me Home For Christmas ~Sebastian Stan~

summary: in order to avoid all the questions about his love life while home for the holidays, Sebastian seeks out help from his best friend. she agrees to go with him but she has no idea what she’s about to walk into.

word count: 3.5k

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warning: crappy ending. sorry :(

note: the lyrics of Take Me Home For Christmas by Dan & Shay inspired this little fic. it was supposed to be part of my holiday contributions but i forgot about it. I kinda veered off topic a little at the end & i’m very sorry that the ending is gonna suck. I finished this on no sleep so I’m a little out of it.

masterlist

“Come on, Seb. Christmas is next week. Are you coming home or not?” Sebastian listened to his mom whine on the phone while we rushed around his room & packed.

“Fine. I’ll be there in 4 days.” he rolled his eyes as his mom continued to talk.

“Good. Your great-aunt Maggie says she has a pleasant surprise for you when you get here.” 

His great-aunt Maggie. His eyes widened when he heard her name and his stomach dropped. It’s not that he didn’t love her. He did. Everyone did. She was the type of lovely old lady who would go out of her way to make everyone happy. 

Sebastian just didn’t like the fact that every time he saw her, she would ask him about his love life.

“I think she’s bringing the granddaughter of one of her old bingo friends.”

“Mom-”

“You’ve met Judy, right?” 

“Mom, I-” Sebastian could not get a word in when his mother got to talking about his life.

“She’s such a sweet girl. I’m sure you two will hit it off.”

“Mom!” he raised his voice slightly, managing to get her attention. “I’ve actually got someone I want you guys to meet. I’m sure you’ll love her. She’s awesome.”

“Oh. Sweetie, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. You didn’t mention her the last time we talked. How long have you been together?”

“It’s coming up on 8 months right now.” he chuckled when his mom gasped, knowing that it was her happy gasp. “Christmas will be the 8th month mark.”

“Oh. I’m so excited to meet her now.” he knew his mom was smiling. “I gotta call Maggie and tell her to just forget about Judy. I’ll talk to you later, honey. Goodbye.”

Before Sebastian could say goodbye, the call had ended. He slowly sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his phone.

Although, he had lied about his girlfriend, he knew there was only one person who would be willing to go along with the whole thing. So, he hit the call button on her contact.

Y/n was at work, becoming increasingly bored when her phone lit up & Sebastian’s picture flashed on the screen. Not wanting to be too eager, she waited until the 4th ring before she picked up.

“Hey, Seb. What’s up?”

“You’re coming with me to New York for Christmas.”

“Do I get an option?”

“Yes, of course. But I would really love it if you came with me. My mom really wants to meet you.”

“What did you tell her about me that would make her want to meet me so bad?”

“Mhm. What did you really say to her?”

“Not much. Just that you’re awesome & I may have mentioned something else.”

“What did you say?” by now, Y/n was sitting up straight in her chair.

“She told me that my great aunt was gonna bring me a girl to set me up with so i told her that I was bringing a girl. Naturally, she assumed that it was my girlfriend so I went along with it.”

“Okay. Well, I gotta go. The boss is coming but I’ll be home in 2 hours so we can talk about this more. Goodbye.”

Once again, the call was over before he could say bye.

2 hours later, y/n walked into the loft apartment she shared with Sebastian, and was greeted with a lovely aroma. She set her bag down on the table and followed the smell into the kitchen. 

Sebastian was standing with his back to her as he moved from pan to pan, trying to cook up something good.

“That smells delicious.” y/n walked over to him and touched his arm. He nearly attacked her with the spatula that he was holding.

“You can’t just sneak up on a man when he’s cooking dinner. It’s mean.”

“I apologize.” she giggled and looked at the pans. “It looks delicious. What is it?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s some kind of beef meal.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it.” she smiled and began the get plates and cups out of the cabinet. “So, tell me more about what you and your mom talked about.”

“There’s not a whole lot left to tell.” he shrugged and looked at her. “But if anyone asks you, we’ve been together for 8 months.”

“So when we get to New York, we’re supposed to act like we’re in love & that we have been for 8 months? Should we create a story to the relationship?”

“Yeah. I think it’ll make it more believable.”

That night, as they ate, their story started coming together piece by piece and the next 2 days were spent memorizing every little detail.

The plane ride to New York was shorter than either of them had expected but it was fun. 

When it came time to walk into his old home, y/n looked at Sebastian skeptically.

“What if I mess it all up? What if I forget a detail or something? What happens if they don’t like me?”

“Will you relax? They’re going to love you so much.” he held her hand for reassurance as they knocked on the door. His mom quickly opened the door and smiled.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” she pulled her son in for a hug and looked over at y/n with a smile. “You must be, y/n. Sebby, she’s so beautiful. Where have you been hiding her?”

“You know how I am with my relationships. I try to stay as private as possible to protect her from the spotlight.” 

“Yes. I do remember you telling me that.” she smiled again. “Come on in. Everyone is already here and they’re all dying to meet her, especially your aunt Maggie.”

Y/n began to follow Sebastian’s mom but she was stopped when he pulled her back. 

“Aunt Maggie can be very critical but I wouldn’t be worried. She’ll love you, I guarantee it.”

The pair continued into the living room where the rest of his family was gathered. They all stopped talking when they saw Sebastian, quickly erupting into cheers and running to hug him. Y/n stepped back to give them all some room and she stood there quietly as they surrounded him.

When Aunt Maggie came into view, y/n visibly tensed up as she approached her. Everyone sent silent as Maggie looked her over.

“Sebastian, you idiot. You lied to us.” everyone froze as the woman turned towards all of them. “She’s way more beautiful than an angel.”

The family exchanged looks of relief as Sebastian joined his aunt and y/n. 

“Yeah, she really is, isn’t she?” he smiled and held her hand, causing her heartbeat to quicken unexpectedly. “She keeps getting more beautiful with every passing day.”

“Oh, stop it.” y/n blushed and looked around the room. “8 months later & he’s still as charming as the day we started dating.”

“Aren’t you two just the cutest couple?” Sebastian’s mom smiled and went back to the kitchen.

“Come on, love. Let’s go up to our room.” he pulled her towards the stairs and up to his old room. “Told you they’d love you.”

“Your family is wonderful, Seb. I can’t wait to get to know them better later.”

“You’re going to love our family traditions that last all week, I guarantee it.”

“Well, you’ve been right every time so far, so I see no reason to not believe you.” she put her bag on the bed and let his hand go. “What’s the first one?”

“Since there’s a bunch of snow, we split up into 2 teams and go out to the backyard, where an arena has been assembled, and we have a snowball fight. It’s so much fun.”

“I hope so.” she smiled and looked up at him. “What else do you guys do?”

“We decorate the tree, bake cookies, go caroling. Sometimes we go ice skating on the pond in the park. We also go to the annual Christmas parade & watch the kids in the neighborhood show off their talents at the talent show.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of stuff. When I was growing up, all my family did was go caroling on Christmas Eve. Then we’d come home, get into our matching pjs and drink cocoa while watching Christmas movies.”

“We do that too. And we also stay in our pjs all day on Christmas day.”

“I do that still.”

“I know.” he smiled. “I remember when we got snowed in the first year we lived together and when I woke up that morning, you were drinking your cocoa and you gave me those pjs that matched yours and when you told me what you did during the day, I thought you were insane. But I’ve enjoyed it every year since then.” he smiled.

“Every year? You’re telling me that you wear your pjs ALL day on Christmas?”

“Yeah. It makes me feel a little safer because I know you do it too when you’re with your family at Christmas. It feels like we’re together at Christmas.”

“Awe, Seb. That’s adorable.”

“Okay, you two. It’s time for the snowball fight. I’ve already put all the names on the board downstairs. Let’s go.” his mom squealed giddily before disappearing down the stairs. Sebastian and y/n followed quickly, curious to see what team they were on. They ended up being on opposite teams and the final two in the fight. And since, Sebastian went easy on her, it was easy for her to bring her team to victory.

As the week progressed quickly, but in a good way, all kinds of traditions were celebrated. 

It was now Christmas Eve and the family members who weren’t getting food ready for tomorrow, were out caroling. Y/n, Sebastian, his mom, his aunt Maggie, and his cousins travelled from house to house in the neighborhood and sang their hearts out. Y/n had heard Sebastian sing before but there was something different about him when he was belting out Christmas tunes. It was mesmerizing. When they were done caroling, Sebastian and his mom exchanged a look.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, we thought that since you didn’t go to Tulsa for Christmas this year, we’d bring a little bit of Oklahoma here for you.” Sebastian smiled.

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, darling, it means that we’re taking you to see our homemade version of the  Chickasha Festival of Light. We got a bunch of people from the neighborhood to help us set it up in the park. It may not be Oklahoma but we hope you’ll appreciate it just as much.” 

“I’m sure I will.” y/n smiled and walked alongside Sebastian as they talked with his mom. “How did you guys know about that?”

“Seb told us last week. He told us that he wanted to do something special for you this year since you’re always doing wonderful things for him.”

“You raised quite the gentleman.”

“Thank you.”

The group continued their walk to the park. In the middle of the walk, one of Sebastian’s cousins approached y/n & asked her for a piggy back ride, which she gave him. One of his other cousins asked him the same thing & jumped on his back. When they got to the park, the lights turned on.

“Wow. This looks really great.” Y/n smiled and looked around. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Anyone who’s important to our little Sebastian is important to us. You’re family now, dear.” Aunt Maggie spoke kindly.

“I know it’s only been a week but I love you guys so much.”

They all continued to walk through the park. Y/n couldn’t help but shed a few tears as they continued their journey. Sebastian noticed this and held her hand tighter. When they got to the end of the light festival, they obviously stopped to take a picture.

Back at the house that night, after the younger kids and older family members were in bed, the adults were hanging out in the living room, drinking cocoa and talking about the events of Christmas day.

“I hear that Seb has something big planned for tomorrow.” his mom smirked as she nudged her sons arm.

“Mom, you’re making it out to be bigger than it is. It’s just a present for y/n that I know she’ll love.”

“I don’t think anything can top that light show. Honestly, being able to see it this year was amazing. I clearly have the best boyfriend ever and the best family here. I can’t thank you guys enough for everything this week.”

“No need to thank us, dear.” Aunt Maggie smiled. “We’re more than happy to do it.”

Y/n offered a smile in return and rested her head on Sebastian’s shoulder. When she yawned, he knew it was time to say goodnight to everyone.

“It’s been a fun night everyone but I’m afraid my sweet little baby here, is tired so I think we’re gonna call it a night.” He stood up and helped y/n to her feet. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

After the goodnights were exchanged, Sebastian nearly carried y/n up the stairs and set her on the bed.

“Do you want to change into your Christmas pjs?”

“I didn’t bring them.”

“I know. But, you see,” he paused and reached into his bag. “I did.” He held up the pair of matching pjs that she had gifted him the first year they lived together. When her eyes landed on them, she sat up.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?” she smiled and grabbed hers from his hand.

“I don’t recall.” He smiled and began to change.

“I’m gonna go change then I’ll be right back to tell you.” She smiled and went into the bathroom to change quickly before heading back to the room. “Okay. You’re the best.”

“I know.” He winked at her and moved over to give her some room. She laid down and faced him.

“Thank you for inviting me here. I’ve had the best week pretending to be your girlfriend, Seb. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“You’re my best friend & if I hadn’t invited you, you would’ve stayed at home all by yourself. I didn’t want you to be alone on Christmas. Plus, my mom was starting to get tired of hearing me talk about you & she wanted a face to match the stories.”

“It’s so cute that you talk about me with your mom.” She smiled. “What do you tell her about me?”

“I tell her about everything. I told her how funny you are & how smart you are. I also told her that you’re super successful at work.”

“I work a crappy office job that pays less than it should.”

“Yeah but you’ve only been there for a few months & you’ve already been promoted twice. That’s incredible.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She smiled and began to play with the strings on her pants. “You know, I owe a lot of my good luck & fortune on you.”

“How’s that?”

“You push me to work hard & you’re a solid support system when I feel like everything is falling apart. I can’t count the times you were there for me when I needed someone. You drop everything whenever I call & I know I’ve pulled you away from a lot of dates with those calls.”

“I’m always going to be there for you. No matter what.” He smiled and pulled the blanket over them. A brief moment passed between them where there was no line between platonic and romantic. “We should probably get some sleep. The kids like to wake up early & wake everyone else up with their excitement so we should be well rested when that happens.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Seb.”

“Goodnight.” He kissed her head and faced away from her.

Morning came faster than expected and y/n woke up before anyone else did. Or so she thought. When she made her way down to the kitchen, Sebastian’s mom was already awake, preparing breakfast for the entire family.

“Good morning & Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, good morning dear. You’re awake early. Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yeah. I slept fantastic. Thank you for asking.” y/n walked over to the woman. “Do you need any help?”

“No, sweetie. You’re a guest in this house. You don’t have to help with anything.”

“I know but I want to. Besides, cooking breakfast for 15 people is probably exhausting. And I want to thank you for inviting me int your home with open arms. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“You are just the best. Thank you.” She looked around the kitchen. “There’s not a whole lot left to do, actually. Maybe you can help me with these dishes.”

“Okay. That works for me.” She grabbed a dish rag from the counter and followed her over to the sink.

When Sebastian woke up, he was surprised to find y/n’s side of the bed empty. He knew how much she loved sleeping in when she had an opportunity. He climbed out of bed and checked the bathroom first. When he didn’t find her in there, he went to the kitchen, figuring she probably got hungry and went to find food. He was not expecting her to be helping his mom with the dishes.

“Merry Christmas, lovely ladies.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“What’s going on here?”

“Your lovely girlfriend offered to help with breakfast, but I had everything done so we decided to do the dishes that I dirtied. She is a freaking saint, Seb.”

“She really, really is.” He smiled and kissed both of their heads. “Babe, when you’re done here, I got something for you upstairs.”

“Okay. I’ll be back up there shortly.” She returned to helping with the dishes while Sebastian went upstairs to look for the present he got y/n.

A few minutes later, she was in the room with him.

“What did you get me?”

“The first present is something I didn’t want to give to you in front of everyone else because they would’ve made a bigger deal out of it than it is.” He handed her a box and watched as she opened it.

“Okay,” she flipped the lid of the box and an evermee necklace was sitting inside. “Seb, this is amazing. I love it so much.”

“I already loaded it with a couple of our best photos together.” He helped her put it around her neck. “There. It looks beautiful.”

“This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you.” She smiled and looked into his eyes. Before their lips would’ve met, Sebastian’s cousins came running into the room, ruining the moment they were having.

“It’s Christmas. Santa came. Come on. There’s presents.” They both shouted and  ran back out of the room.

“We should follow.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” y/n followed Sebastian down to the living room where everyone was gathered around the pile of presents. The kids went first and got toys, the adults went last and got stuff they wouldn’t break easily.

“Alright, I have an announcement to make you guys. And it’s a big one.” Sebastian stood up and looked over at y/n. “I’m sorry but I’ve been fooling you all. Y/n isn’t actually my girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? I know what love looks like & there’s no way that what you two have been doing all week, isn’t real love.”

“Well, she’s been my roommate and best friend for 8 years. I brought her here to see if you guys liked her and I didn’t want to be set up with a random girl. Especially not when I know exactly who I want to be with.” He walked towards y/n and pulled out another box. “The day you showed up to the apartment, I knew the connection we had would last forever. You are my best friend in every situation & I couldn’t ask for anybody else. I love you & want you to know that I will never ever let you go, if you give me the chance to try.”

“I love you too, Sebastian. Nobody knows me better than you do & there’s nobody I’d rather have by my side through all the troubles. You’ve helped me grow and become a better person. And I am definitely willing to put in the time with you so we can be together for the rest of our lives.”

“Wait, are you guys getting engaged or something? Because that’s what it’s starting to sound like & there’s a ring. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“We’re not getting engaged, but I do have a ring for her. It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple birthstone ring with the date we met engraved on the band.”

Y/n opened the box and smiled. “It’s beautiful, Sebby. I love it.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, you idiot. Weren’t you listening before?” y/n giggled and looked at the ceiling. “How convenient.”

“What?” Sebastian followed her gaze and grinned when he noticed the mistletoe. “So, does that mean-“

“Oh, just kiss her, you idiot.” His mom smiled while gently shoving them towards each other. Sebastian stabled them & looked into her eyes before finally pulling her close and making sure that this time, their lips actually met in a kiss filled with electricity.

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 7 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sakura went to her shift a little bit giddier than usual for a variety of reasons despite the busy holiday season; it was nearing Christmas after all. The first one – having finally tied with Sasuke in their recent exams, and the second – the approval of her personal project. There was also a third reason, but she was unresolved of what to feel.

Kakashi met with her alone after their monthly council meeting. It was the usual talk, the heavy administrative concerns they do not bother other council members with, reminders about problematic behaviors among the student body or personal problems that faculty or students were plagued with that needed intervention. He said an apology just as she reached the door.

“Sakura?” Kakashi asked, turning in his chair.

She looked back at him with a neutral expression. While she knew she wasn’t overtly passive aggressive in her actions, he might have noticed a change in her cheerful disposition towards him. Her clumped fingers anxiously fidgeted with the rubber band on her wrist, his rubber band that she didn’t use anymore to tie her hair. “Yes, sensei?”

“Were you offended with what I said during the school trip?” he asked, but his expression already seemed to know the answer.

Her eyes downcast, she turned the knob of the door, knowing that she was free to leave without replying, but as the door stayed ajar, she decided to come clean. “Yes.”

“I thought as much. I’m aware that I belittled you like a child. Your money is yours to spend however you want. Please know that I only have good intentions with what I’ve done,” her sensei told her. “But isn’t it also unfair for you to shoulder that much problem? I’m a paid employee and before that, I am your adviser. I have a responsibility just as much as you do. Next time you are presented with that, learn to ask for help.”

Sakura didn’t see the expression he had on his face. She was too flustered to compose a comeback and she can only settle for a meek nod before shooting out of the room like her tail was on fire.

“Girlie!” Her coworker’s voice brought her back to reality – a reality of a long queue of customers waiting for their to-go coffees, mini-cakes, and boxes of pastries to share with loved ones in this cold night while she’ll be likely stuck in shift well past beyond midnight, tolerating the café uniform, the itch of her black weave on her scalp, and the heavy makeup she wore for tonight. She flashed an apologetic (yet charming) smile to the other person, and they gave her a thumbs up.

The queue has thinned out by eleven, to be replaced soon by stragglers hoping to catch a last dose of caffeine pump. She stretched her neck and stifled a yawn, forgetting to say Welcome to a customer that walked through their doors.

“Your sweetest drink please and a half dozen of hazelnut cookies,” the customer said. “Thanks, Sakura.”

She almost broke her already strained neck when she raised it up quickly to meet the owner of the voice. No gel blonde hair Naruto with black circles under his eyes. Rookie MVP looked shit as hell.

She barely formed an excuse in her head when he waved his hand in front of her. “You can drop the act with me. I already knew the week you got discharged from the hospital. I just passed by after dinner with the team when I saw a girl manning the cashier with the same band-aid on her nose which I gave you a day before.” Naruto grinned at her in the off chance that it would reassure her.

“Will this be to-go?” Sakura asked as she busied herself with Naruto’s order, unsettled with her carelessness. At the back of her mind, she was yet to answer herself why she was adamant to use a disguise while working.

“For here. Apartment’s kinda bare during these times.”

As what she expected, Naruto was still seated when they were about to close, and ironically, he chose the corner table with no windows, contrary to what his other friend would have chosen. Like those usual nights with Sasuke, she slid in front of him, her disguise gone.

“Let’s go see the amusement park tomorrow?” It was as if she saw sadness being lifted from his shoulders the way they transitioned from slouching to an alert stance.

She found then that Naruto was always that person that found happiness at the simplest things.

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

“A horror house!” Naruto pointed at the very moment they stepped inside the park. He somehow absorbed his captain’s fashion persona, undercut prominent with his baseball cap, loose plain black shirt, and gray cargo pants.

“All right. Treat me if we reach the other end with you clinging to my arm,” Sakura teased. She was dressed in a mauve smocked crop top with high rise flared jeans and platform white sneakers that allowed her to reach Naruto’s shoulders. She wondered if her getup was too much what with the number of heads that turned her way as she littered in the entrance earlier.

Sasuke begged off through their group chat, saying he was unavailable. He was yet to explain that group hug last time, but he was evasive every time Naruto brought it up while she simply cannot find the right timing.

She guessed she was still taken aback by how warm his hold felt like. If she was right, whatever defenses he had around them were toppled down by himself that day. But what triggered it – she’d probably never know.

Naruto placed a fist on his chest. “This is one bet I’ll never lose.”

And he lost – spectacularly. His baseball cap was long gone thanks to a zombie who panicked when he almost punched it. He was also hyperventilating and sweating out of his wits, his throat may have gone hoarse by now with all his screaming inside.

Sakura cannot get rid of the long string of laughter that bubbled. “Come on, let’s cool off for a while.”

To help calm Naruto down, they had to line up with all the other kids in the merry-go-round, then off to paddle a swan boat on a manmade lake. She went all out in the shooting range and won Naruto a frog plushie while he blitzed through the basketball hoops, sneering at the kids beside him who were waiting for their turns.

They capped off the afternoon with a ride on the ferris wheel. They sat opposite each other, and Sakura suddenly felt queasy. She remembered she was apparently acrophobic, and so she focused instead on Naruto who was still in awe of the scenery. The park had a busy crowd today – it was the holiday season after all and families, friends, and lovers were up and about. She just hoped Naruto didn’t catch on yet.

“So why are you stuck with me instead of your family, Sakura?”

Ah he caught on. “They’re busy,” she simply replied. “Besides I’ll see them later in the evening.”

Naruto smiled at her, a smile that knew she was hiding more but he chose not to prod further. Sakura silently conveyed her thanks.

“I don’t know how to thank you. I was really in a slump when we lost, but this day made me recharge my drive and gave me a newfound resolve. You, Pres, is the first to hear it!”

Sakura can only grin, urging him to go on.

“I will bring our school team to the nationals and we will win.”

Sakura clapped her hands and gave him a thumbs up. “Of course, you will. I know you’ll do it.”

“I just wish I told Captain Haru before he left town for vacation.” Naruto slid lower in his seat. “Apparently, he and Hinata broke up. You’re friends with both of them, right?”

Sakura shook her head, shock at the news. She had an inkling from her previous conversation with Haru, but she didn’t expect it would come this early. “I am, but I haven’t really heard from both parties lately.”

“Well, Hinata’s father offered an athletic scholarship to Cap, but he turned it down, saying he was undeserving, and it might just be because of Hinata’s prodding.”

If she recalled correctly, Hiashi Hyuuga was the chair of the Sports Council that spanned all districts of their state. She could see why Haru was angry and disappointed enough to break it off with Hinata. “But they were so good together. Did he ever tell you how they first met?”

Naruto rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “Do tell please!”

“There was a student exchange of some sort and Hinata ended up in our class for a month. Of course, she was the takane no hana and this immediately gathered a bandwagon group of shallow admirers. Haru, oh Haru, he found pretty people depth-less, but he was the class representative that time – “

“And you were?”

“Of course, a student council president. But wait pay attention Naruto!”

“Okay I am paying attention! But you really are an overachiever!”

“Yeah and what about it!” Sakura almost chuckled in exasperation. “So anyway, he had to escort Hinata back and forth at the school gates because of the unreasonable crowd. He would ask her random things, but most especially on archery since he was so bad at it. And they found a common ground and the topics expanded beyond the arrow and bow. The guy had the nerve to cover it up from me at first, saying they’re fake dating and it was just an arrangement to keep creeps at bay.” She sighed, suddenly saddened by the breakup. “I thought it would last forever.”

“But Hinata never introduced him to her family, did she?” Naruto asked. “Because Cap also told me that when Hiashi called him up for the offer, he didn’t know he was the boyfriend, he was simply a person her friend referred.”

Oh Haru. You must have known what family you were entering when you loved her.

“Hey? Time to get down,” the operator said. Their turn was already finished.

As they walked to the gates, Naruto asked her. “Love is too scary. You’ll never know if you’ll end up hurt or happy despite everything. Besides, can you even say it’ll be worth fighting for?”

Sakura’s fingers immediately went to the rubber band on her wrist, “It’s always a mix of everything, all the good and the bad, and somehow it’s all convoluted into one hodgepodge of memories that will be a part of you forever. It’s your decision what you want to do with it, and in between all of those, you’ll know. Like one big realization in your head that lights up like fireworks and splayed in big capital letters.”

Her eyes met Naruto’s gaze and his eyes slightly widened at her response.

“I talk vague, don’t I?”

“Not at all,” he replied.

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

January couldn’t come fast enough, and Itachi was out of the country just as quickly as he entered his apartment unannounced on Christmas Eve. A holiday break, he said, but if he wasn’t annoyingly checking up on him in the evenings, he was otherwise holed up in his hotel. The truth was, he had a conference and a simultaneous workshop with the state hospital. Sasuke was just a side trip, an obligation that his brother didn’t want to take care of.

He could have told him about Naruto and Sakura and how he now knew all the technicalities of baseball because of the former and that he can consider calling them as friends, but their brotherly bond was too frayed to bridge all of those thoughts.

It was a week before the start of the spring term, and he found himself re-reading Naruto’s texts over and over again.

Grumpy.

So how was your date?

AHHHHH SO IT WAS A DATE. I NOW FEEL SO SHY.

Idiot.

SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL IN HER GETUP.

Yeah as if you two didn’t already spam the group chat with your pictures.

HEY AT LEAST WE EDITED YOU IN.

Why are you typing in all caps? Your phone broken?

GRUMPPPPPPYYYYY. Grumpy, I have something to tell you. I think I like Sakura – not the ‘like’ like others have for her. It just came to me, like fireworks in big capital letters. I LIKE HER.

Sasuke wasn’t able to reply. He didn’t know what to reply or what to feel, really. These recent nights, his mind only brought him to the first moment he saw her in the café, and there was an unfamiliar pang he couldn’t name.

Then, suddenly he was in front of her in the café itself, ordering an iced americano and bruschetta with tomato and basil. Her eyes lit up in recognition; today she wore her black hair in low pigtails and a light dab of tint on her cheeks and lips.

She sat across him when it was her break time, cheery and still in disguise, the winter cold making the blush even more prominent. “I’m gonna bounce some ideas to you.”

Sasuke kept mum, relishing the sacred combination of tomato and basil in his mouth, but let his stare level with hers.

“The school board approved my personal project. I proposed to set up a mental health committee since our infirmary – get this – and guidance office don’t actually have a psychiatrist. The school will be asking a medical professional to come in for monthly guidance counseling and will be an official partner for outpatient concerns.” With her face on her palm, she leaned forward, seemingly surveying Sasuke’s minute expressions.

“That’s tricky,” he remarked. “How will you encourage them though?”

“I think just the mere availability and accessibility of it is enough to encourage students.”

“Hmm.” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I did it?”

Sasuke knew that he already broke his resolve to remain uninvolved in the remaining years of his life here in this town. He knew that sometime ago, the walls he built up since the accident broke down in the constant presence of her and the blonde idiot. But in spite of, he knew that there was another layer of wall that withstood the recent onslaught. Unfortunately, something has started to leak from its crevices. Something that made him understand the overwhelming emotions that raged behind such walls.

He missed having her all to himself, like a little secret, a safe abode he could always retreat to – her with her black hair and makeup, her with her bouts of vulnerabilities laid out in front of him in rare moments, her with her emerald eyes and tufts of rose hair that peak from the weave, her in this table in front of him and the world outside divided by a glass window.

If he could name it, it was a feeling of loss, a loss he stole and a loss he never had the privilege of feeling in the first place.

“Because you’re a good person and you always think of others,” Sasuke started, still holding her gaze. “And I think you want it because you might need it more.”

Sakura was the first to break off. She soon excused herself and resumed her shift. By the time Sasuke finished his coffee and bread, it was almost closing time. His words may have struck a chord so he decided not to wait for her. Maybe he’ll talk it through with her next time, if she allowed him to. He was almost out of the doors when the new pair of customers passed by.

A glint of silver hair.

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

And a brunette on his arm.

Sasuke never saw color drain as quickly as the blush did from Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 8

[isolemnlyswearpevensie]

Beyond Our Dreams | Remus Lupin x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: None

Time/Era: Marauders Era, Aged 19

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: Remus Lupin finally gets to meet his American soulmate, Y/N, after seeing eachother every night in their dreamscape. 

Request: can you do a remus lupin x gender neutral reader soulmate au where they see each other in their dreams

A/N: I adore Remus so much. He’s such a special character to me. So, thank you for the request! Enjoy! I also attached my Remus Lupin playlist, which is full of songs that remind me of this perfect boi :) Check it out if you want! 

masterlist | my remus lupin playlist | read on ao3

The apartment they chose to meet at was always the same; it was a small room with a comfy, forest green couch, a cozy bed, a small kitchenette, and a door that led to a bathroom. It was rather plain as well, with dark red walls and a plush carpet below their feet. On one of the walls, there was a large window that overlooked a calm city. The normal hustle and bustle of city life was extinguished by a heavy downpour. 

While most people made their dreamscapes extravagant and complicated, as it is their mind after all, Remus and Y/N found comfort in the simplicity. The pair just needed a comfortable spot to talk and get to know eachother. 

“And then Lily just sort of dropped the bomb,” Remus stated, sitting on the couch opposite of Y/N. His long fingers wrapped around a white mug and he held his tea close to his body. 

“I can’t believe she’s pregnant!” Y/N had her legs crossed and a plate of chocolate chip cookies situated in her lap. “We haven’t even met yet, but people our age are already having kids.” 

Remus heartily chuckled, raising his mug to his lips and taking a sip. “It’ll happen in due time, darling. Besides, it’s nice to have you to myself without outside influences,” He coughs. “My friends skewing your views on me.” 

“I know your friends are lovely, based on how you speak so fondly of them.” Y/N took a big bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies. It was chewy and gooey, making it absolutely delicious. “Why are dream cookies so good? Like, seriously, these things are to die for.” 

“Because they’re a figment of your imagination. They can be as yummy or as disgusting as you make them to be.” Remus pulled at the collar of his gray t-shirt, making the seams rip. “Do you ever wish I was more, I don’t know, exciting?” 

“What do you mean?” Chocolate smudged on the corners of her mouth.

Remus grinned and licked his thumb, rubbing it over her delicate skin to clean her face. “I mean, our dream world is a one-bedroom apartment and all we ever do is talk. I don’t know, I hear Sirius has a rollercoaster in his dreamscape. I fell dull in comparison.” 

Y/N fondly smiled at her soulmate, moving so she was sitting directly next to him. “Rollercoasters are overrated. I like the comfort our little apartment gives us, it’s nice and warm in here and I have you next to me.” She set the cookies on the coffee table in front of the couch. “We don’t need to go on extravagant adventures, you seem to have enough of those when you’re awake.” 

“You deserve better, though. Not a guy in his late teens that is constantly tired and would rather sit on a couch drinking tea than going on a rollercoaster.” 

“I deserve you, and you are more than enough for me.” Y/N sighed, moving Remus’ hair out of his eyes. He couldn’t feel her physically, but it was still a nice gesture. “I’m not exactly itching to go on grand adventures. That’s what meeting you is for.” 

“You’re only 5,437 miles away, anyway.” Remus’ mouth twitched into a sad smile. “That’s nothing.” 

“Hey, it’s better than 5,438 miles.” 

“You got me there.” 

~

“What would you do if I came to London and surprised you?” Y/N laid her head on Remus’ thigh while he moved his hand through her hair, trying to imagine what it felt like. 

“I’d probably get rather quiet and not know what to do if I’m being honest,” Remus observed how Y/N’s locks flowed through his fingers like water and how it contrasted against the forest green upholstery of the couch. 

“Maybe let out a few cuss words?” 

“Why are you so obsessed with me cussing?” 

“Your accent is hot, especially when you say ‘fuck.’ I like to hear it.” Y/N smiled cheekily and watched Remus’ pupils dilate. 

“Fuck,” The words fall off his tongue with his Welsh accent. Much of the Welsh had faded, due to living at Hogwarts and now London, but it was still very apparent in his speech.  Y/N giggled and squirmed. 

“Yeah, like that. Sometimes you just slip it into casual conversations and I have to compose myself.” 

“Americans are weird, it’s just an accent.” 

“No, it’s not just an accent. It’s your accent so I like to hear it. Sue me!” Y/N threw her hands up in false anguish, lightly bumping Remus’ stomach. 

“You’re so dramatic, love.” 

“I am not dramatic! Just every time I compliment my favorite person in the world he says I’m weird! Maybe you’re the weird one, Lupin!” 

“Fine, I’m the weird one. Does that make you happy?” His voice sounded exasperated, but he was staring down at her with the fondest expression.

“Extremely.” 

~

“Do you think Sirius, James, and Peter would like me?” Y/N sat on the counter of the dream kitchenette. 

“They already do like you, dear.” Remus stood between her legs with his hands resting on her thighs. With her sitting so high, they were almost the same height. “Why?” 

“Well they’re important to you, and you’re important to me, so I want them to like me. It would suck if your friends hated me.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. They even have a nickname for you,” Remus looked away, his cheeks turned slightly red. This piqued Y/N’s attention. 

“A nickname? What is it?”

“Button.” Remus’ cheeks were dusted a light rose color and his ears were bright red. 

“Button? Why Button?” 

“Well, a few years ago we were all going around and describing our soulmates. I said that you were as cute as a button and I guess the name stuck.” 

Butterflies erupted in Y/N’s stomach and she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Why can’t I just apparate to you again?” 

“We talked about this, love. You’ve never been here and I’ve never been there so you can’t apparate straight here. And the plane ride between us is almost 11 hours.” 

“Fucking hell.” Y/N sighed in frustration. 

“Fucking hell, indeed.” 

~

“I did something, and you have to promise not to be mad at me.” Y/N paced around the kitchenette while Remus lounged on the couch. His head shot up at her words. 

“What did you do?” His mind raced a mile a minute and he prepared himself for the worst. Y/N probably found someone better than him and wanted to cut off contact. 

“It’s nothing bad, relax.” 

“Well if it’s not bad, why would I be mad?” Y/N sighed and sat next to him on the couch. 

“Well, in the real world I’m sort of on a plane to London right now.” 

Remus’ eyes bulged and he jumped off the couch. “You’re coming? Here? Really? Now?” 

“Well, I’ll be there in about four hours.” Remus was now pacing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Mine and Sirius’ flat is a wreck!” 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to back out for a silly reason like a messy apartment.” Y/N stood and reached for her boy. “I love you and I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

“Four hours?” 

“Yes, four hours.And I need a ride from the airport.” 

~

Y/N stood atop the escalator and looked at the crowd below, scanning all the faces for her love. Her face crinkled when she didn’t see Remus but two young men holding a piece of cardboard with her name written in black marker on it. She realized that the two were, in fact, James Potter and Sirius Black. 

“Sirius and James?” She said walking up, suitcase in hand. Both were much taller than Y/N and extremely handsome, making her feel slightly uncomfortable under their gaze. Both young men grinned down at her. 

“Ah, you must be Button. Nice to know Remus talks about us enough for you to recognize our handsome faces,” Sirius exclaims, putting the cardboard under his arm and nudging James. “You’re even prettier than Rem described.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Well, you aren’t exactly hard to miss. Long hair, leather jacket, combat boots, overly flirty,” Y/N turns to James. “Glasses, The Beatles shirt, tired expression. Obviously, you’re James Potter and Sirius Black.” She smiles and pulls her hair behind her ear. “Congrats on the baby, by the way.” 

James beams, “Thanks! Kinda crazy considering the circumstances, but you know how it goes.” He takes Y/N’s luggage and starts walking towards the exit. “You threw Moony into quite a panic, you know. It was one of the best things I’ve seen in a while.” 

“It had to be done, he’s been putting it off for years. Something about not wanting me to be disappointed, whatever that means.” 

“Ah, classic moons. Glad you came though, really shakes up our daily schedule.” Sirius responds. The three make their way to a Volkswagon Beetle and James pops the trunk to put Y/N’s luggage inside. 

“Why didn’t he come and get me? Not that I mind the company, of course.” Sirius crawls into the back middle seat, leaving Y/N to sit shotgun with James driving. “Woah, I forgot it’s on the wrong side.”

“He pussied out, I’m sure you know how nervous he gets,” James pulled out onto the street and down the road. “And what’s on the wrong side?” 

“Your car and the road, James. It’s on the wrong side.” 

“It’s not on the wrong side, maybe you’re on the wrong side. Ever think of that?” He turned his head to look at her, the thick frame glasses on his face sliding down his nose. 

“See! You agree! I am currently on the wrong side!” Y/N giggled and hugged her backpack to her chest. 

Sirius also lets out a loud, bellowing laugh. Y/N felt as though she had known these two her entire life; in a way, she had. 

The three pulled into a parking structure and she exited the beetle. (The car, she had come to discover, was named Lennon, after John Lennon himself.) She hadn’t been nervous up until this moment, staring at the apartment door. James patted her shoulder and smiled. 

“It’ll be okay. He’s the same Remus you’ve been talking to for the past however many years.” 

“Yeah, if you even get him to talk,” Sirius pushes his way between the two and towards the door, lugging Y/N’s bag into the flat. He drops the luggage in the middle of the living room and flops onto the couch. “Oh, Moonbear, your lover is here! Get your fine ass out of your room, before I take it out here myself!” 

Y/N cautiously pads into the house, taking in the atmosphere of the home. It was very similar to their dreamscape, very small and sparsely decorated. However, the flat seemed to have 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, as well as a few closets. The livingroom had various framed band posters hanging on the walls, as well as a big framed picture of the entire friend group. Y/N could point out who was who easily as she observed it. 

“Lily is so pretty,” She said aloud and pointed between two blondes. “Which one is Marlene and which one is Mary?” 

Sirius and James look at eachother and share a laugh. “Merlin, he really does talk about us.” James points at the girl with the big, poofy hair. “That one’s Marls, the other is Mary.” 

“Makes sense, since I’m assuming that’s Dorcas?” Y/N’s gaze moves from the blonde to a pretty brunette next to her. 

“Oi, Moons, I didn’t realize you spoke about us so much,” James says, making Y/N turn around. In all his glory, Remus Lupin stood in the living room, decked out in jeans, and a The Smiths shirt. He was perfectly imperfect, and Y/N’s entire body warmed. His gaze didn’t leave Y/N as James spoke but he allowed his jaw to grow slightly slack and his hands to pull his shirt down. 

“You’re even more beautiful in person, how is that possible?” His voice was breathy and light as if he was in complete awe. The light from the windows highlighted his cheekbones and made his features look unbelievably sharp, creating shadows that danced down his neck. He looked heavenly in absolutely every way possible, and this moment made her entire travel day worth it. Y/N blushed and stepped towards him. 

“Nice shirt, missed you at the airport, though.” 

Remus rolls his eyes and pulls his girl close to him. “Sorry ‘bout that, sunshine.” 

Y/N nestled her face into his chest, taking deep breaths of his cologne. He was even better than she expected, all the way down to the wool socks he wore. Remus’ hand came to gently stroke her hair before looking up to see his friends. Unsurprisingly, though, the living room was now empty and Sirius’ bedroom door was closed. 

“You smell so good, is that weird to say?” Y/N mumbles into the fabric of his shirt. “Like pine, and candy. I don’t know how to describe it.” She felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” 

“Had’ta be sneaky, catch you off guard.” Y/N looked up into his eyes and glanced down to his lips. 

The soft look of admiration she had seen so many times crossed his features as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. 

[yikesharringrove]

hop or max (or both👀) realise how close bill and steve have become and love it because they can just see how happy the boys are

The two boys hadn’t noticed Hop standing there.

They were sitting, pressed hip to hip on the stairs outside the Byers’ when he arrived to pick up El.

They were passing one cigarette back and forth despite the full pack sitting between them, and the outline of a pack he could see in Billy’s breast pocket.

They were talking softly, giggling, touch lingering as they passed the cigarette back and forth.

Billy’s face was soft, was open when he looked at Steve. Hop didn’t know much about the kid, but had heard stories, stories of how rough and tumble he tended to be, how he was hard and mean.

He looked like a damn teddy bear next to Harrington on the steps.

And Jesus, Steve was almost unrecognizable to Hopper.

He had known the kid for a long time, knew his dad all through school, knew Steve when he got old enough to start causin’ trouble.

He had seen Steve looking bored and proper, like he was above everything, like he was too good for Hawkins. He had seen Steve get knocked down a few hundred pegs, had seen him rattling about the town with a nervous twitch in his shoulder, a crazed glint in his eye and a spiked bat in his trunk.

Hell, he’d even seen the kid breakdown, had found him in the woods one night, crashing through with his bat, had started spewing off about how he needed to make sure they were all gone, that everyone’s safe.

(He had cried and shook and slept on Hop’s couch for about a day and a half after that.)

He was used to the spoiled little prince, or the haunted teen with trauma past his years.

He was not used to this carefree boy, this giggly mess sitting next to his friend, sharing a cigarette.

He liked the look on Steve. Liked the line of his shoulders when they weren’t carrying the weight of the world.

-

Max huffed.

She had been woken up by a few thumps in Billy’s room. He had originally figured Neil was in there being awful, but then she heard giggles, unmistakable teenage girl giggles.

That gave way into unmistakable teenage girl moans.

She slammed a pillow over her head, blocking out the high-pitched whimpering. It was the same as the past few nights.

This girl, whoever she was, Billy must like her if she kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Usually, Billy was sneaking out, not letting this girl in.

When the noises had stopped, she took the pillow off her head.

“Sucks that your parent are home. It makes me nervous, you comin’ here. When do they leave again?” She rolled over, didn’t care to hear the chick’s response. She put on her headphones, falling asleep to the Metallica tape still in Billy’s walkman, didn’t hear Steve say, just two more nights, Bill.

-

“You need any help?” Hop was elbows deep in the sink, scrubbing at the dishes from dinner.

Steve was leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves. He didn’t wait for an answer, just shoved himself next to Hop and began scrubbing.

“You and Hargrove seem to be close.” He was too focused on rubbing the stains off of Joyce’s dishes to see how Steve’s cheeks went red.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“I think you’re good for each other. You both seem better.”

“‘Do you mean better?” Hop shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem as pissed off. I haven’t given him a speeding ticket in over two weeks for rage driving, and you haven’t seemed so, I don’t know, fucked up.”

Steve had to put the dish down as he laughed, was laughing so fucking hard he had to squat down, try to collect himself. He wiped his eyes when he stood back up.

“He’s secretly a really nice person. Don’t tell him I said that.” Hop winked at him.

-

Max threw Billy a weird look.

She had asked for a ride to Steve’s house, which was met with a I’ll be ready in ten from Billy. Twenty minutes of him getting his hair just so, they set off.

And then Billy got out of the car with her, walked her to Steve’s door.

“Don’t you got a date?” Billy just furrowed his brows at her. She looked pointedly at his clothes, the red shirt he only wore on his dates, almost all the way unbuttoned.

“Nah. Just haven’t done laundry in a while.” He was staring her down.

“Are you and Steve even friends?” But he didn’t answer. The door swung open, revealing Steve dressed casually in a pair of sweats. He smiled at Max, ushering her inside to the kitchen with the rest of the brats as he stepped onto the porch to talk to Billy.

She doubled back.

“You look nice. Got a date?”

“Yeah. Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.” She cringed at the way her brother was talking about this poor girl. Plus, ehy had he lied to Max, said he didn’t have a date.

“Sounds like a wet fucking dream.” Billy muttered shuddup as Steve laughed.

Steve was making fun of Billy, as wasn’t getting the shit beaten out of him for it.

“Well, come in then. It’s cold.” It really wasn’t but she raced off to join the others in the kitchen, left too soon to see Billy pin Steve against the door, kiss him roughly for a few seconds.

Billy snuck out again, after dropping her off at home.

-

Hop was on quarry duty tonight.

It was Valentine’s Day, which meant most of Hawkins’ young couples would be parked at the quarry or Lovers’ Lake or one of the other lookout make out spots.

Hop was wandering through with a flashlight, knocking on windows with a Hawkins PD, get outta here, you’re trespassing.

He came upon Billy Hargrove’s unmistakable car, the dark blue Camaro parked under a large tree, mostly hidden from the other’s.

He was expecting to knock on the back window, but heard voices coming from the hood.

Billy and Steve were passing what smelled like a joint back and forth, laying back on the windshield looking at the stars.

“Fuck knows I got no other plans for this year. I don’t mind waiting.”

“It’s a whole year, Steve. You’d be stuck here until I graduate.”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“You might still get into Chicago.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Bill.” 

Hopper came stomping up to their line of sight. Steve put out the joint against the side of the car and tossed it into the bushes.

“Subtle.” Billy shrugged at Hop.

“I was expecting to have to pull you off some girl, Hargrove.”

“Hawkins chicks ain’t really my type.” Hop just shook his head.

“Well, you two are still trespassing. Services roads closed at six.” Steve just nodded vigorously as he slid off the car.

“We’ll scurry right off, Hop. Sorry.”

“And if you two are gonna smoke, please do it in a house, or somewhere I can’t smell it.”

The two slammed themselves in the car, Hop could hear them laugh as the car roared to life.

-

Max was digging through the backseat of Billy’s car, trying to find her skateboard.

He had hidden it from her, like a fucking child, so she snagged his keys when he was too busy being a meathead, working out in the living room.

It was as gross as she was expecting. Billy like to keep his car very clean, especially compared to his pigsty of a bedroom.

She picked up an old worn sweatshirt, found a plain shoebox underneath.

She didn’t want to snoop, but she was curious.

There were a few pictures of Billy’s mom right on top. She only recognized her from the necklace around her neck, the one Billy now refused to take off.

There were some movie ticket stubs, a big wad off cash she made a mental note of, a slip of paper she recognized from a fortune cookie from the place Billy would take her on Thursdays after school in California to get their two for one entree special. He had some jewelry in there, probably more of his mom’s, and a gaudy valentine covered in glitter.

She closed the box, didn’t care to dig further than the valentine, didn’t see Steve’s neat handwriting inside of it, the pictures Billy hoarded underneath it, pictures of Steve, pictures of him and Steve, even a few saucy ones of Steve.

Instead she turned her attention to the hoodie, to the faded Hawkins High Swim Team on the front.

She gave it back to Steve next time she saw him.

“Found it in my brother’s car.”

It would be back in a few weeks, anyway.

-

Hop opened the door to the cabin when Steve rapt on it.

He was toting a bunch of board games, was there to watch El for the night.

Hop raised his eyebrows when Steve set them down, revealing the faded Judas Priest shirt. He knew Steve liked shitty pop, wouldn’t be caught dead listening to hard rock.

“Nice shirt.” Steve looked down at himself, going red.

“Oh shit, Bill slept over last night, he must’ve left it.”

And then Hop noticed the bruises. The dark hickies on his neck, just under the stolen shirt.

Hop’s pretty sure he would’ve never heard the end of it if Steve had a girlfriend, pretty sure the kid’s would’ve lost their shit over it.

So Steve maybe was dating in secret, dating a boy in secret, a boy he spent Valentine’s Day with, a boy he giggled with and shared cigarettes with, a boy who’s shirts he stole and forgot he was wearing them.

But Steve was soft when he sat down next to El, smiled at her nicely and asked about the book she was reading.

So Hop shrugged, and went to his late shift.

-

“You wanna go to the mall?” Billy was standing weirdly in her doorway, trying to make himself look like he belonged there. “Could call up that chick friend of yours.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What’s the catch.”

“No catch. Just needed to get something from the mall. Thought you’d wanna go.” He had been acting really off lately.

He’d been talking to her how they used to, before Neil doubled down and moved them halfway across the country. He had even made a joke the other day, one that wasn’t a mean comment masquerading as a joke.

“Lemme call El. Maybe Hop would drop her off.” She was even more suspicious as he smiled at her, went to back to his room. She talked to El for a moment, who said Hop would drop her off in ten minutes.

She poked her head in Billy’s room, saw him looking in the mirror, primping himself.

“Does your girlfriend work at the mall?” He gave her a withering stare.

“Don’t have a girlfriend.” She grinned.

“You so do. You know, I heard her sneaking in here a few months ago. I know that you sneak out to go and see her.” Billy flushed. “And it’s always the same voice, so don’t lie and say it’s different girls you perv.”

“Shut up, Maxine.”

“Make me, William.” He stamped his foot like a little kid.

“That’s it! No more mall for you today. I’m just gonna go by myself.” She blocked him in the doorway.

“Just tell me her name.” He shook his head.

“Fine. Tell me where she works and El and I will leave you two alone.” He shifted his jaw around.

“She works at Scoops Ahoy?”

“Isn’t that where Steve works?”

“He introduced us.”

But, But that didn’t add up. Billy had been seeing this girl long before Steve started working there. Maybe they knew each other before? No, Steve famously didn’t have any friends besides the party when Billy started sneaking around with that gir-

And then it hit her.

The fucking sweatshirt.

The Hawkins High Swim Team sweatshirt.

Leggy brunet. Totally hot. Has this tight ass, is such a slut.

She almost threw up.

Steve was her brother’s secret girlfriend. How did she not fucking see this.

“Cool. We’ll let you two be gross or whatever.”

He gave her a tiny smile. She was trying her best not to scream.

Hopper dropped El off and Billy drove them to the mall, let Max pick the music and at one point, had even hummed along to the Hall & Oates song. Fucking Rich Girl.

She pulled El along to The Gap when they hit the mall, Billy making a beeline for Scoops.

“We’re gonna spy on Billy.” El just smiled slyly and nodded vigorously.

They crouched behind plants out in front of Scoops, could just hear Billy talking to Steve’s coworker.

“Dingus, your homoerotic rival turned lover is here.” Steve’s shoes squeaked as he launched himself from the back room. Max’s hands were clammy. She was right.

“Don’t be so loud, Rob.”

“There’s no one here.” Max heard a sound like something being hit dully. Steve yelped. Billy just slapped his ass. “But, you are not allowed to leave me for more than your fifteen. Not like last week. The rush came and I was alone for an hour, Steve. An hour.”

“O-kay, Rob. We’ll be quick.”

“And disinfect any surface you two fuck on. I refuse to touch that.” Billy roared with laughter as Steve squawked indignantly. Max peeked up to watch Steve drag Billy into the backroom. Billy grinned at Robin, a really nice, happy smile before turning to Steve.

[xerxia31]

The First Christmas

Author/creator: xerxia31 Square filled and prompt: I3, evergreen (I mean, tangentially anyway) Title: The First Christmas Rating: K Summary: The Everdeens have never celebrated Christmas before... Author’s/Creator’s notes: Yeah, I went a little over the word count, because I’m a shameless rule breaker. This is canon-divergent in-Panem fluff.

“I’m worried about Peeta,” Prim says out of the blue. She and Katniss are perhaps ten paces behind Peeta on their early morning trudge to school, watching as Peeta sneaks what he probably thinks are furtive glances towards the square.

It’s been four months since the night Peeta’s mother threw him out of the apartment above the bakery, and he’s adapted to living with the Everdeen women better than any of them imagined. Life in the Seam is far different from a merchant life in town, but Peeta never complains, never seems to miss his previous life at all.

But over the past few days, Katniss too has noticed that on the long walks to school, and back to the Seam, he keeps glancing towards town, where he never used to do so before. 

“Maybe he misses his family,” Katniss muses in a hushed tone. His two brothers come by the small shack in the Seam from time to time to see Peeta, but there hasn’t been a single word from his parents. None of them ever thought Peeta’s presence in their home would be a permanent thing; when they offered him a safe haven from his abusive mother they expected his father would smooth things over in a few days. But it hasn’t happened.

“Hmmm,” Prim hums, matching her quiet tone. “I mean, I’m sure he does. But I don’t think that’s it.” 

“What then?” The snow and cold are making everyone a little grumpier lately, at school and in the Hob there are a lot of frowns, a lot of complaints. The ever-present coal dust stains the snow a sludgy grey, and it’s hard to be happy surrounded by the mess, especially someone like Peeta who has the soul of an artist. But she and Peeta sneak under the fence together on Saturdays when the weather cooperates and the fence is off, and in her woods, winter is actually quite pretty, even if the hunting is terrible. 

Ahead of them, Peeta’s shoulders slump as he reaches the fork where the path turns towards the school. Where his short view of town will disappear again.

“I think,” Prim says carefully, “that maybe he’s sad about Christmas.”

Christmas. Katniss has heard the word before. It was an ancient celebration, held near the solstice. Illegal in Panem now, as all of the old celebrations are, but there are some merchants who talk about it in hushed tones. 

“Why do you think that?” Katniss isn’t even sure when Christmas is, and she’s certain she’s never heard Peeta say the word before. Though they’ve only been dating since the spring, she’s known him forever, they’ve been schoolmates since they were five.

“I think it’s soon. I heard the miller’s son talking about it yesterday during history class.”

“Maybe,” Katniss hedges. “But what can we do about it anyway?”

“We could bring a little bit of Christmas to him,” Prim says, excitement lighting her bright blue eyes. 

“How?” Katniss grumbles. “We know nothing about Christmas.” 

“We’ll find out.” Prim quiets as Peeta realizes how far behind him they are and stops. “Christmas,” Prim murmurs again, then skips ahead, looping her arm through Peeta’s.

Both blondes hold out their free hands towards Katniss, and it makes her laugh, knocking the idea out of her head. She picks up her pace to join them. Peeta wraps an arm around her shoulder, pressing a warm kiss to her cold temple, just below the fuzzy edge of her frayed grey  hat, and the three finish their walk to school linked together.

But she’s thinking about it again later that evening. Peeta is quiet over dinner, not brooding but not his usual cheerful self. Prim enlists his help to accompany her on a delivery of salve to an injured miner on the far side of the Seam, and Katniss washes up the supper dishes with her mother.

“What do you know about Christmas?” Katniss asks, and though she’s not looking at her mother directly, she can see Mrs. Everdeen tense, the way she always does when Katniss mentions things that are forbidden in the district.

“Not a lot,” she says softly. “My mother’s parents celebrated it, but my father disapproved, so we never did.” Katniss is surprised by the hint of melancholy in her mother’s voice. She doesn’t understand how that sadness can be about her grandparents, the people who disowned their only child, who never even met their granddaughters.

“Prim thinks maybe it’s why Peeta is so sad.” There’s no point beating around the bush, Katniss isn’t interested in discussing her mother’s long lost Merchant life.

Mrs Everdeen nods. “I know Graham celebrated Christmas when we were young. I don’t know about Marissa though,” she says referencing Peeta’s parents. “But I’ve seen Christmas cookies fairly recently that must have come from their bakery.” She pulls her hands from the dishwater that’s gone cold. “Has he mentioned something?”

“No,” Katniss admits. “But you know Peeta. He would never complain.”

“That’s true,” she replies with a gentle smile. Mrs. Everdeen is very fond of Peeta, that much has been clear ever since he started coming to call on Katniss. “You and Prim are thinking about celebrating Christmas, to cheer him up?”

Katniss shrugs, putting the last dry dish away. “Not exactly,” she hedges. “We don’t know anything about it, I think that would be strange. But maybe we could do something small that would remind him of Christmas?”

“Well,” her mother starts, guiding her over to the small, threadbare couch by the potbellied stove. “Christmas was celebrated just after the solstice, on December 25.” Katniss nods, that gives her a little over a week to figure something out. “I don’t know the origins, exactly. But before the dark days, children would hang their stockings by the stove and wait for Father Christmas to fill them.”

“Fill them with what?” Katniss interjects.

“Little presents, if they were good. Coal, if they were bad.”

“The bad kids got coal in their stockings? I think I’d want to be bad.” Coal isn’t cheap, after all, and it’s useful.

Mrs. Everdeen laughs. “The good kids got treats from the sweet shop, or maybe new crayons or a little doll. A lot more exciting for a child than a bag of coal.” Katniss resists the urge to point out that she would have been excited about a bag of coal when she was a kid, in those years when she was keeping their little family together while Mrs. Everdeen wallowed in her misery. But it’s been six years since her father’s death, and she’s trying to let go of that anger.

“So Christmas is just for children?” Katniss doesn’t think Peeta would be so sad about missing out on a new tin whistle or spinning top.

“It was a little different for adults, I think. I don’t remember a lot,” she admits. “There would be a special dinner, a feast really, and decorations. And presents too, I think, if there was enough money.” There is definitely not enough money in the Everdeen household for whatever a Merchant Christmas would look like.

But maybe…

“Will you help me?” Katniss asks, with some reluctance. She loves her mother, but even after all of these years, she finds it difficult to trust her, and almost never asks for her help in anything.

Mrs. Everdeen brightens up. “Yes,” she says. “We’ll have to be careful. But I think we can put together a few things.”

“Where do we start?”

o-o-o

“Chop down a tree?” Prim’s eyes widen incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“That’s what she said,” Katniss sighs. “Apparently it’s a big deal. You chop down an evergreen tree and haul it inside the house, then decorate it with berries and popcorn.”

“That sounds beautiful,” Prim sighs, reminding Katniss that her little sister is still so young and so full of wonder. To Katniss, it just sounds like a lot of work and a waste of food.

“Sure,” Katniss says. She doesn’t have the heart to discourage Prim’s whimsy. “But how am I going to get a tree into the house without Peeta seeing?” It’s hard enough even to find occasions to chat with Prim without Peeta around, but on Mondays and Wednesdays at lunchtime he has wrestling practice. She’s not complaining about his presence, she loves having him around, and so does Prim. Madge had warned her that having Peeta living with her would probably be the end of their relationship, since Katniss was a loner by nature. But the opposite has been true. Having Peeta around all of the time, seeing his constant kindness and compassion, no matter the situation, she’s fallen even more deeply in love with him, and found a well of patience she never knew she possessed.

“I think he’s helping Leevy’s dad tomorrow afternoon for a couple of hours,” Prim says. “If the tree is little enough, we could hide it in our bedroom, then drag it out after Peeta goes to bed.” The timing is just right, he’d wake up on Christmas morning to a decorated tree, and Katniss has plans for the fat turkey she shot yesterday to become the special feast. 

o-o-o

“It looks ridiculous,” Katniss grouses. The tree, though barely a sapling, takes up almost all of the space in their tiny bedroom not already occupied by the two beds. All three Everdeen women share the room, while Peeta sleeps on a pallet in what used to be their summer kitchen. It’s drafty in there, and cold in the winter, but he never complains. 

“I think it’s magical,” Prim sighs around a mouthful of popcorn. The little tree is encircled with strings of the fluffy white stuff, which feels like a colossal waste of food, as well as cranberries, which bothers Katniss less since she’s not fond of the sour red berries anyway. Prim has cut paper dolls and nestled them into the branches too, and their mother has contributed some leftover strands of colourful wool from who knows where, pine cones dangling from the ends. 

Prim is so giddy during dinner that Katniss thinks surely Peeta will suspect something, but he’s quiet and distracted, tired from helping Leevy’s dad patch his roof and wrapped in the melancholy that’s dogged him for a couple of weeks now. Katniss hopes their Christmas surprise will cheer him up. She misses her always positive boyfriend. Her dandelion. 

It takes all three Everdeens to drag the little tree out, tiptoeing past the door to the summer kitchen, where Peeta retired early. They set it in the corner of the living area, wedged between the wall and the mantel, and though the tree isn’t even as tall as Katniss herself, it dominates the small room. 

Mrs Everdeen weaves together the small branches Katniss trimmed from the tree, fashioning a patchy garland she winds along the mantel over the stove. 

Katniss smiles. As silly as this whole exercise is, she can see how it’s going to charm Peeta with his love of whimsy. And Prim’s glowing happiness is a nice side effect. Maybe this Christmas stuff isn’t so bad after all.

She’s still smiling when she and Prim crawl into bed, even though the blankets are full of scratchy bits of popcorn.

o-o-o

She’s awake before dawn, which is typical, she wakes up early even on mornings when she’s not planning to hunt in the forest. But today, Prim is awake too, which is strange, it’s not even a school day. The excitement of Christmas morning, Katniss guesses. The girls whisper beneath their blankets, talking excitedly about Peeta’s surprise, but also about the things they don’t always have private time to chat about. The boys Prim is just starting to notice, the new dress Madge wore to school the day before, the chickens that the blacksmith is raising who always escape their coop. Sister stuff. Being forced to grow up too fast by their father’s death impacted their relationship, forcing Katniss to parent her little sister instead of being a friend. But lately things have been improving. Since Peeta moved in, really. He’s been a ray of sunshine, good tempered and helpful and hopeful, making everything easier in the little Seam shack. And their mom has been more present; Katniss is sure that too is Peeta's influence. 

When finally they hear the door between the summer kitchen and the house creak open on its old hinges, they throw back the blankets and sneak to the bedroom door. 

Peeta is standing very still in the main room, facing the tree. Prim hangs back a bit, but Katniss walks to him, the floor cold even through her socks, and lays a tentative hand on his forearm. 

He turns to face her, eyes shimmering wet. “Katniss,” he gasps. Then he’s pulling her into his arms, enveloping her in the warmth and strength of his embrace. 

“Happy Christmas,” she whispers, and he laughs softly, a broken little sound of pain and pleasure. He presses his lips to her temple, she can feel him smiling. They’re seldom physically affectionate in the house, it just seems disrespectful, but he holds her so tightly on this Christmas morning, his first without his family, and she clings to him. 

“You did all of this for me?” he murmurs against her hair. 

Katniss nods, snuggling more deeply into him, his heart beating under her ear. 

“What are those?” Prim squeaks from beside them. Katniss pulls back just slightly, unwilling to fully relinquish Peeta. It’s been so long since they’ve held each other like this, winter gives them few opportunities to cuddle without an audience. She looks around his broad shoulder, to where Prim is perched on the tips of her toes, like a bird about to take flight. Hanging from the mantel are three socks. “Why are our socks hanging over the stove?”

“Stockings.” Katniss remembers her mother calling them. “But how?”

“Father Christmas, of course.” All three young people turn at Mrs Everdeen’s voice. “You must all have been very good this year.”

Katniss and Prim both look confused, but Peeta smiles broadly. “Father Christmas brings treats for all of the good little girls and boys,” Peeta tells Prim, his smile bright. “He fills their stockings at Christmastime.”

Prim looks as pleased as Katniss has ever seen her, happier even than Peeta. Katniss glances at their mother, who is also smiling widely. Mrs. Everdeen must have snuck out after everyone was asleep and set this up. So that they could all have a special Christmas celebration.

Mrs. Everdeen insists on making tea before they look in their stockings, Katniss and Peeta sit side by side on the faded couch, his arm wrapped around her, the huge smile still resident on his face. Prim flits around, first helping her mother, then darting back to look at the stockings again, back and forth. She’s thirteen now, when Katniss was thirteen she was hunting and taking care of her family, she had no time for frivolity and no appetite for it either. But it’s so nice to see Prim acting like the young girl she is. It warms Katniss’s heart.

“You don’t celebrate Christmas,” Peeta says softly in Katniss’s ear as they watch Prim dance.

“No,” Katniss admits. “But you do.”

Peeta nods. “We weren’t allowed to talk about it. But Father Christmas always came on Christmas, even when it was a school day.” Pain flits across his features, cracking Katniss’s heart. “I miss them,” he admits. “I know I shouldn’t.”

“They’re your parents,” Katniss says simply, and Peeta nods. They’re terrible parents, by all measures. But Katniss knows that he can’t stop loving them, even if she doesn’t fully understand why. 

“I can’t help wondering if there are still three stockings on their mantel,” he whispers. “If they miss me at all.”

Katniss doesn’t have an answer for that, but she shifts to hug him tightly. 

With hot cups of tea and slightly hard biscuits from the day before consumed, Mrs. Everdeen hands each child a stocking. Prim laughs in delight, pulling each surprise from the sock and dancing around the small room to show everyone else. Katniss and Peeta poke through their stockings much more slowly, savouring the experience. Katniss keeps glancing at her mother, who looks happier than Katniss can remember. She hasn’t seen a smile like that since before her father died.

Katniss’s sock contains a stick of peppermint candy, a bottle of liniment for sore muscles, and a new knit hat in bright red wool. Peeta has lemon drops, a little pot of salve for winter-chapped hands and a green knit cap. Prim makes sure everyone gets an up close look at her new blue hat and hair ribbons, the cinnamon candy already consumed. Katniss knows how hard her mother would have had to have worked, to trade for the brightly coloured wool from which she made their new hats, and for the sweets and ribbons. And she’s torn between being horrified at the waste when all of that work could have been traded for things they really need, sugar or paraffin or cooking oil, and being genuinely delighted and touched. 

It’s been so long since she felt like a child, instead of a life-hardened person. So long since she’s seen her mother as a mother, instead of yet another mouth to feed. 

They prepare the holiday meal together, and while it’s not the first time they’re shared cooking duties in the little Seam shack, it might be the most joyful. Peeta tries to teach them a Christmas song, but he can’t carry a tune in a bucket, and the three Everdeen women simply dissolve in peals of laughter when poor Peeta warbles the nonsense phrase fa-la-la-la-la. 

It does nothing to diminish his joy.

The turkey is resting on the sideboard, waiting to be carved, when there’s a tap at the door. Katniss opens it with a big smile which falls when she sees two blond heads filling the frame.

She glances over her shoulder. Peeta has frozen in his table setting, he looks confused, but not unhappy to see his brothers. Katniss ushers the men into the shack which immediately feels crowded with the extra people, and closes the door against the winter wind.

“Came to wish you Merry Christmas, brother,” Brann, the eldest says. “But it looks like you’re already having a celebration.” He glances over at the little tree, the bright garland, and smiles broadly.

“Will you stay for the meal?” Mrs. Everdeen asks softly. “We were just about to begin.”

Katniss wants to protest, what is a feast for 4 will be much less adequate for six. But the way Peeta’s eyes light up so hopefully, she bites her tongue.

“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Rye says, but there’s a questioning lilt to his voice.

Prim, clearly also having read Peeta’s expression, jumps in. “Please stay,” she says brightly. “The more the merrier!” She’s tugging at their jackets before they’ve even agreed, leaving them little choice. Katniss bites back a smile. Prim’s jolly mood is infectious.

Brann extracts a small lump wrapped in a bit of bakery paper from his pocket before Prim takes his coat. He places it in Peeta’s hand. “Merry Christmas,” he says softly, before tugging his little brother into a hug. Rye joins, and Katniss glances away, giving the young men some bare semblance of privacy.

She has, in the past, resented Peeta’s brothers for not doing more to help him, for living their cushy merchant life while Peeta sleeps on a wood pallet far from the stove. But she knows that’s unfair, that Brann and Rye love their brother endlessly but are powerless to change things.

Peeta’s eyes are wet when the three Mellarks break apart, but his smile is as bright and wide as Katniss has ever seen.

It’s a tight fit to squeeze six people around the tiny kitchen table and there aren’t enough chairs, but Peeta perches on the stepladder and Rye balances on a wooden crate. There is more than enough for everyone, and the tiny shack fills with laughter and stories, Peeta and his brothers trading tales of holidays past, of delights left by father Christmas, of hiding Christmas cookies when the peacekeepers came by. It’s one of the nicest evenings Katniss can remember, and she finds herself thinking maybe there is something to this Christmas stuff, this celebration that has nothing to do with Panem and everything to do with family and community.

Peeta’s brothers can’t linger after the meal, their mother will doubtless be angry they’ve been gone as long as they have. The bakery is closed in the evenings, but there are always floors to mop and hearths to sweep and grievances to listen to.

Even cleaning up is lighthearted and fun, the festive feeling stretching into the mundane chores of packing up leftovers and washing the dishes. 

When they’re done, Peeta gathers them back around the table and produces the little paper-wrapped lump his brother had given him earlier. Inside is a ball, nearly black and a little lumpy. Katniss wrinkles her nose and avoids mentioning that it smells like old man Abernathy. 

“What is it?” Prim asks, her voice reverent, understanding that the unfamiliar blob is somehow important to Peeta.

“It’s called plum pudding,” he says softly, smiling. “Our traditional Christmas dessert. Will you all share it with me?”

The lump is small, and Katniss is worried just the fumes will make them drunk. But she pulls out four plates anyway while Mrs. Everdeen freshens their tea. To her surprise, when Peeta cuts into it, it’s full of fruit and nuts. Instantly, she’s transported to a cold April morning, years ago. To a kind little boy who saved her life. The start of a friendship that became so much more. 

Katniss glances at Peeta, and finds him smiling warmly at her. She can think of that day now without anger, without anguish, because of Peeta. Because of the years of goodness she’s witnessed, the hundreds of acts of kindness he’s done not just for her, but for anyone he encounters. He makes her see the world differently. He makes everything good again, even in the midst of District Twelve, and even when his own situation is so cruelly unfair. 

“There are no plums!” Prim says, interrupting her musing. Katniss inspects the cake-like lump. Raisins, nuts and currants, and what looks like orange peel.

Peeta laughs. “There never are,” he says. 

“I could get you plums, next year I mean.” There’s an ancient plum tree, not far from her father’s lake. It never produces more than a handful of purple fruit, so Katniss seldom bothers with it. But if it’s important to Peeta, she’ll pay more attention next summer. 

Peeta beams at her. “No, I mean it isn’t made with plums. Just raisins, currants and candied peel.”

“Then why do they call it plum pudding?” Prim says, nose wrinkled. “It’s not pudding, and there are no plums.”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Peeta admits. “It’s a very old recipe.”

Katniss takes a small bite. It’s… not great. The cake makes her think of illnesses, sweet like sleep syrup and burning like the white liquor their mother gives them for coughs. 

“Not a fan, love?” Peeta says softly. He never calls her that pet name in front of anyone else, but something about the festive magic has made him a little less cautious. Or maybe it’s just his happiness overflowing.

She shrugs. She’s not keen on offending him, but she doesn’t think she can choke down a whole piece of the cake, however small it might be. Peeta seems to be enjoying it though, so she slides her plate in front of him with a grin. 

“Katniss doesn’t like sweets,” Prim interjects, and she’s not wrong. Given the choice, Katniss would always choose the more savoury treats, though she did like the taste of chocolate Peeta snuck out of the bakery for her once, years ago.

“That’s because she’s sweet enough already,” Peeta teases, and all four of them laugh. Only Peeta would ever describe Katniss as sweet. ‘Prickly’ is a far more common adjective.

Mrs. Everdeen leaves the children to finish their cake and bundles up in her heaviest coat. “I have to check on Molly Birch’s new baby,” she explains. “I won’t be long.” It’s only a two minute walk to where the Birch family lives in a little Seam shack identical to the Everdeen home, so she waves off Peeta’s offer of accompaniment.

Prim, in an act of kindness so very fitting her sweet temperament, announces that she’s got homework and takes a candle into the bedroom. Katniss knows Prim doesn’t have any pressing work, expects she’ll probably lie under the blankets and read from the plant book. She’s just giving Katniss and Peeta a few precious minutes of privacy. 

Normally it would embarrass Katniss, the implication that she and Peeta might need alone time, but today she’s just grateful. He opens his arms and she walks right into them. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, lips brushing against her neck. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“So far,” Katniss whispers. She’s not one for fantasizing about the future, especially when there is still one more reaping to get through. But that it will include Peeta is a given. She used to be afraid of love, afraid of losing herself, like her mother did. But not anymore. Not with Peeta by her side.

Peeta sighs, a soft, satisfied little noise, then pulls back just slightly. Katniss scowls, but he merely grins. “There is one tradition you forgot,” he says, but his mischievous expression takes away any sting to his words. There is always fun in an expression like that.

“Oh?” Katniss says, returning his smile. 

He pulls from his pocket a small ball of greenery with tiny white berries. Katniss knows what it is, some of the bolder merchant boys hang them around the school, hoping to catch merchant girls unaware. Mistletoe. 

She laughs, but softly, so as not to disturb Prim. The walls in the shack are paper thin. Peeta nods, eyes twinkling, then lifts the little weed above her head, and bends to kiss her soundly.