#I say bring it Brenda

[ijustthinkhesneat]

Outta the way I’ve got hot takes coming through!!!!!!

Dick doesn’t resent Jason pre-death: I have found no evidence to support this. He definitely has issues with Bruce but Dick taking his anger out on Jason is so ooc. I think they were never super close though, partially because Dick wasn’t around much and Jason wasn’t around that long.

The Joker Jr of it all: I honest to god don’t know how I feel about this. On the one hand if Joker Jr had had a bigger impact on canon I really would have liked the dynamic it would create and how the Batfamily would react to Tim. On the other hand this absolutely could never happen because Batman would go full serial killer at that point. I personally think Joker Jr was the best version of Arkham Knight/Dick being mind controlled by the Joker.

Damian Wayne is an asshole: Yeah I went there. I’m throwing your Cherubic God King on the pyre and what will any of you do to stop me?! I understand Damian needing a lot of time to adjust and going through an immense level of trauma but like guess what he is still a jerk. I totally hate that he so rarely gets just brutally humbled in canon. Like their is the time he picks a fight with Jason and just gets absolutely bodied and he tries to fight previously mentioned mind controlled Dick and also gets rekt. But I swear he is way to arrogant for someone who gets clapped by like every other character.

NO ONE WOULD EVER WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ANY OF THE BATS EVER IRL: Yup it’s time to address the elephant in the room. All of the Bats with the exception of Cassandra who has never done anything wrong in her life and maybe Barbara if you close your eyes and ears, are terrible people.

Bruce Wayne: Look I could forgive helping old ladies while dressed up as a furry, I could over look being an emotional nightmare, I could even see why he didn’t murder the joker. But I cannot forgive his greatest sin. Being a fucking BILLIONAIRE.

Tim: Emotionally manipulative, a liar, has zero respect for other’s boundaries, also a billionaire, no fashion sense. He is that emo boy in a coffee shop who you think is deep but he is just stoned as hell and will ruin your credit.

Jason Todd: It’s the child murder for me, It’s the being an actual drug lord for me, it’s the duffel bag of severed heads for me. Truthfully those things are iconic, but this man is PTSD ridden and armed to the teeth with guns. I would get up to get a glass of water at night, sneeze and then Stable Mabel would blow my head off.

Dick Grayson: That friend who is never okay. Dating him would be like dating any generically attractive boy in college, yeah he’s hot but the eating disorder and body dysmorphia are reaching a turning point. Have you ever met a college gymnast? I don’t think he would be as gross but like he is a cop so if his friend assaulted someone he definitely wouldn’t tell anyone about it. I feel like he would gaslight me into breaking up with him only for his jackass to show up on my doorstep at 3am sopping wet. Also he’s a circus kid, that is a theater kid with talent and no shame. He would be so fucking annoying, like you would be embarrassed to be seen with him.

[aerospectrum]

pleeeease im begging weeping pleading on main for memes to distract me from the lame-o news I’ve been saddled with today ;__;

[mybrainisslowlyboiling]

I need one of those adult animations shows with all the sex, swearing, and disgustingly vulgar humor but has one of those fairytale, friendship-is-magic type moral endings to every episode. Because goddammit, the kids don't need these lessons the ADULTS DO.

[corroded-hellfire]

Throwing a fluffy idea out there: Eddie volunteering (possibly for community service after getting busted for something silly) at a pet shelter. The kittens trying to play with his hair, him rough housing with the dogs to help get them some playtime and exercise.

Eddie loves animals and no one can change my mind. All I want is to see him with these fuzzy little babies 🥺

Words: 3.1k

Hopper was a good guy. He knew deep down Eddie was a good kid and that if he was the worst criminal that Hawkins had, things were going all right. But that didn’t mean that the chief of police wouldn’t lay down the law once in a while with the small-time drug dealer. 

Eddie had gotten the choice between a few nights in the tiny town jail or volunteering at a pre-approved Hawkins business. Not wanting to spend time behind bars, Eddie grumbled as he took a look at the list of volunteer options. Spending any time at a medical facility was an automatic no and Eddie wasn’t sure how picking up trash would keep him away from drugs when all he’d want is to smoke a joint after the arduous task. 

The Hawkins Animal Shelter immediately seemed appealing, though. Growing up, Eddie had always wanted a dog, but his dad couldn’t afford to own one and Wayne is allergic. Thinking of spending time with the dogs and cats that didn’t have families of their own brought a smile to his face. Maybe part of it was that he didn’t have a stable home life before coming to live with his uncle, so he could relate to the sweet, innocent animals. 

His first day on the job, Eddie jumps out of his van and tosses his leather jacket on the passenger’s seat so it won’t get covered in fur or drool. The gravel crunches beneath his boots as he heads towards the front door. Barking can be heard before he even grips the dull copper doorknob. 

There’s an older woman seated behind a desk as soon as he walks in, who looks up at him over the rim over her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Munson?” Her voice is deep and raspy, the pack of cigarettes sitting in front of her the obvious culprit.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says.

The woman nods her head to a yellow door covered in scratches—mostly on the bottom half. “In there. The girl will show you what to do.”

The girl. Eddie doesn’t even know who she is, but he’s offended on her behalf by being referred to in that way. Giving the woman a quick nod, Eddie heads over and through the door, eager to be out of her presence. 

The sound of dogs barking and yipping is even louder in the back hallway, and now it’s joined by the high-pitched meowing of cats. It brings a smile to Eddie’s face as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. He turns a corner and sees a girl bending over into one of the dog’s kennels. As excited as he is to see the animals he’s going to be spending time with, he admires the view of the nice ass in front of him first. A particularly loud woof from a Pomeranian has the girl standing up straight and Eddie is quick to avert his eyes, hoping he can keep up the facade of being a gentleman for more than five minutes.

“Oh! Hi, Eddie.”

At the sound of his name, Eddie looks back towards you. A smile breaks out on his face as he recognizes you from school. The two of you never really spoke before, but he couldn’t deny that he’d always thought you were very pretty. 

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here,” he says.

“Nope, just volunteer,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the thighs of your jeans. 

“And I bet you weren’t even threatened with jail time,” Eddie says with a playful smirk. You giggle and it makes Eddie’s stomach flip in a way that’s unfamiliar to him.

“Let me guess, Brenda sent you back here with a huff?” A dog clamors for your attention in a kennel to your right and you reach in to scratch behind the chocolate lab’s ear. 

“I assume so,” Eddie says with a shrug. “She didn’t bother introducing herself before ushering me along, saying you would tell me what to do.”

“Hmm,” you hum, narrowing your eyes as if inspecting him. “Can anyone really tell Eddie Munson what to do?”

This makes him laugh and it scares a skittish poodle to his left.

“Aw, I’m sorry, pal.” Eddie crouches down and holds his knuckles up to the kennel door to let the white, fluffy dog give him a sniff. 

“That’s Stella,” you tell him. “Her brother Bruno is on the pillow back there asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes roam over to the dark gray poodle snoozing away in the back corner. He looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world and Eddie envies that. 

“Do you know all the animals’ names here?” Eddie asks as he stands back up.

“Sometimes it’s hard to keep track because they come and go, but yeah, I think so,” you say. “Hmm, okay, I was just about to go change the kitty litter. Want to come along and distract the kittens? You wouldn’t believe how much they get in the way.”

“Sure,” Eddie agrees as he follows you down the hallway. As soon as you open the door to where the cats are kept, a cacophony of meowing floods his ears. There are different volumes and different pitches blending together to create a song of cat chaos. Eddie realizes he must be staring when he hears a soft giggle coming from your direction. Ducking his head, he clears his throat and turns towards you. “What should I do, boss?”

“Well,” you say as you walk over to a few of the cubbies the cats are residing in, “I’ll let a few out at a time, you distract them with the toys or maybe even some treats and I’ll clean their boxes. Then we try to corral them back in and start over again. Ready?”

There’s an array of cat toys on the far side of the small room. Fuzzy mice, balls that jingle, some with feathers, and a few cat wands. Eddie grabs a bag of cat treats off the shelf–which means every little eyeball in that room is on him–and settles himself on the floor next to the toys.

“Ready.”

The first batch you let out consists of five cats–ones that you know for a fact get along, you inform him. There’s a calico named Turtle, an orange and white one named Eric, an all-white called Kissy with the bluest eyes Eddie’s ever seen, and two small kittens. They’re both tabby cats with stripes, but one is grey with black stripes and the other is a soft orange with darker stripes; named Pepper and Chili respectively. Unsurprisingly, the kittens are the first ones intrigued by their new visitor. Tiny paws pad over the linoleum floor until they’re both standing right in front of Eddie. Now that they’re this close though, they get a bit shy. Their eyes are so big for their little heads, Eddie thinks, and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute they are. Chili decides to be the brave one and takes on the scary task of crawling up Eddie’s leg. 

“Jesus,” Eddie winces as sharp little claws dig through the material of his jeans and prick at his skin. You pop your head out from one of the kennels and give him a sympathetic look.

“Yeah. I don’t know why but kittens’ claws are sharper than adult cats,” you tell him.

“God, you’re lucky you’re so cute,” Eddie tells Chili as the little furball stops to sit on Eddie’s thigh. As if seeing that his brother is safe, Pepper jumps up and follows the trail the ginger cat had led. “Ah, both. Great.” His words are joking, but the way he grits his teeth as Pepper’s claws do their little pricks of damage is very real. 

Turtle makes her way over and begins to chew on the top corner of the treat bag. Kissy immediately wants Eddie to pet her, and Eric is content to sit about a foot away and watch the others interact with the human on the floor. 

You peek over your shoulder as you empty the dirty litter into the garbage can beside you, and smile when you see Pepper standing on Eddie’s lap with her two front paws pressed right over his heart. Her tiny head bobs as she inspects Eddie’s face, little pink nose twitching as it works. 

Chili has to outdo his sister and jumps right up to Eddie’s shoulder, as if he were a pirate and Chili is his trusty parrot. The ginger cat noses at Eddie’s curls before deciding to take a taste. He opens his mouth and Eddie is glad that hair doesn’t have nerve endings when Chili sinks those little needles that he calls teeth into the strand. 

By the time you get finished cleaning out the litter and refilling the food and water, Pepper is up on Eddie’s other shoulder, chewing on hair on that side of his head. Kissy is curled up in Eddie’s lap, purring contentedly as she snoozes. Turtle is still trying to figure out how to get into the treat bag, and Eric decides he can trust Eddie enough to rest his head on Eddie’s ankle. 

“Well, don’t you all look comfy,” you say as you stroll over to them. 

“Cats have no boundaries,” Eddie says with a smile.

“Not a one,” you agree.

Eventually, you get them all back in their cubby condos and are able to move on to clean the other cat’s areas.

When you get to the last one, you open the cage door and reach in. Eddie watches as you pull out an older gray and brown cat and hug it to your chest.

“How are you, Perry?” you ask before planting a kiss right between the cat’s ears. You turn towards Eddie so he can get a better view of the large feline. “This is Perry. He’s the oldest cat here and an absolute sweetheart. I would’ve brought him home with me a long time ago if my sister wasn’t allergic.”

“Hi, Perry,” Eddie says, walking closer to the two of you. He holds his fingers up and Perry gives them a quick sniff. The cat ducks his head and Eddie takes the hint, scratching wherever his hand is guided along the soft fur.

“Wow,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Perry let anyone pet him that quickly. He can be a grumpy old man when he doesn’t know someone.”

“I live with a grumpy old man,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Guess I just know how to deal with them.”

“Do you want to hold him while I clean?” you offer. 

“Sure.”

You hand the cat over and Perry quickly adjusts to being in Eddie’s arms. It’s another thing that surprises you. Perry isn’t usually a fan of being held—unless it’s by you. But the tabby seems quite content in Eddie’s arms. 

Since the last cage is the easiest to clean, you finish up with the cat room in no time.

“What now?” Eddie asks. 

A look down at your watch lets you know.

“Time for the first group of dogs to go outside.” You nod for Eddie to follow you in the direction of the dogs’ section. “We do it in groups since there’s so many of them. This way they can all get some attention and there’s less likely to be any issues or fighting.”

It’s not surprising to you that Eddie is a complete natural with the dogs when you get outside. He’s on the grass with them, rough housing, he plays fetch, and even runs laps around the yard with a few who just need to burn off their extra energy. The dogs all take to him so naturally—even the shy ones. It’s impossible not to smile as you watch the canines play with this golden retriever of a man. 

By the time the two of you bring the last round of dogs back inside, Eddie’s cheeks are rosy from exertion, his breathing is somewhat labored, and he has patches of dirt on him almost from head to toe. 

“Come here,” you say with a chuckle once you’ve snapped the last lock shut. 

There’s a battered door at the other end of the hall, and Eddie follows you over towards it. You jiggle the rusty doorknob and step into the small bathroom. There are a few stacks of towels lined up on the counter and you pull a teal one off the top of a pile. 

The scent of lemons fills the small space as you pump some hand soap onto the towel and wring it out with some water. 

You turn back to Eddie and motion for him to drop his chin. He does, and you push a few strands of curls back to wipe at the dirt on the left cheek and jawline.

“How’d you get this?” you ask with a chuckle.

“No idea,” he replies with a small huff of laughter. “I think it was when Yogi and I both dove for that tennis ball.”

The memory of Eddie and the chocolate lab both going for the toy brings a smile to your face as you clean off what you can of the dirt. 

“He’s a good boy,” you say. 

“What about me?” Eddie asks with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You laugh and toss the dirty towel in the laundry bin. 

“Yes, Eddie,” you tell him. “You were a good boy, too.”

Even though he’s the one who brought it up, he feels his face get warm.

“So, I’m actually headed out early today,” you say as you wipe your hands off on the sides of your jeans. “But I’m sure Brenda will let you know what you can do next.” It’s hard to keep the playful smirk off your face at the mention of the cantankerous receptionist.

Eddie drops his jaw and stares at you with mock annoyance.

“Playing hooky and leaving me with someone who makes Ms. O’Donnell look like a ray of sunshine? How dare you?”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“I mean, if you want to go get my cavity filled for me, I wouldn’t complain,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie winces, fighting off the urge to run his tongue over his teeth.

“Oof, okay. That’s a good excuse, I guess,” Eddie says. 

“I’m so glad you approve,” you tease. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

“Sure am.”

Honestly, Eddie has no idea if he’s scheduled to come in tomorrow or not, but he hardly doubts anyone would complain if he showed up for extra volunteering. 

“I’ll see you then.”

You give him one last smile before heading to grab your bag from the back room.

The next day, all the cats and kittens meow at you the moment you step foot into their room. 

“Hello, babies,” you greet them. “How’s my man Perry doin—” Your face falls when you see Perry’s usual crate empty of the senior cat. 

Despite the cries of protest, you back out of the cat room and hastily make your way to Brenda’s desk.

“Where’s Perry?” you ask without preamble.

“Got adopted,” Brenda responds, not looking up from the old issue of People Magazine she’s flipping through. 

“Oh.” You swallow and nod your head. “Good for him.” I didn’t get to say goodbye. 

A few tears fall as you head back to the cats and begin your daily cleaning routine. You are genuinely happy that Perry has found a home. Cats of his age don’t belong in a shelter, they belong with a family. Well, all cats do, but it’s especially harder for seniors. It’s the fact that you didn’t get to give him one more scratch between his ears or kiss the back of his head one last time that is upsetting you. He was so much a part of your daily life that it already feels empty in the shelter without him.

“Hey.”

Eddie’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and hit the back of your head on the roof of Chili and Pepper’s cubby. 

“Ow.” You wince and step back, bringing your hand up to hold the sore spot.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry!” Eddie says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you—hey, are you okay?” Eddie frowns in concern when he sees the tear tracks running down your cheeks. 

“Huh? Oh yeah,” you say before wiping off your face with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m fine. Just found out that Perry got adopted and I’m bummed I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.”

“Oh.” The smile forming on Eddie’s pretty face doesn’t hold the tone of sympathy that you were expecting. He clears his throat and brings his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, um, actually, I’m the one who adopted him.”

Either your ears or brain are having a hard time grasping what Eddie just said, so it takes a few moments before it finally clicks.

“You? You adopted Perry?”

“Yeah.” There’s a prideful grin on Eddie’s face and it makes your heart rate pick up. “After you left yesterday, I went to say goodbye to him, and he kept pawing at me through the bars of the crate. I let him out and he wanted me to hold him. I kinda fell in love with him right then and there.”

Tears flood your eyes once more, but this time for an entirely different reason. 

“Oh, Eddie.” You chuckle and wipe at your misty eyes. “That makes me so happy. Perry deserves a good family, and I couldn’t have picked a better one. Thank you.”

“You can come by whenever you want to see him,” Eddie says, a nervous warble in his voice. He clears his throat and tries again. “I’m sure, uh, he’d love to see you more.”

A shy smile graces your features as you reply, “I’d like that, too.”

“So, no more tears,” Eddie says, stepping forward and using his thumb to gently erase any remains of your waterworks. 

“No more tears,” you agree, taking a deep breath. 

Before you can let the thought linger and overthink it, you lean forward and wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging his body close to yours. He tentatively wraps his arms around your body before holding you just as tightly as you’re holding him. 

Reluctantly, you pull away and take a step backward.

“So, what do you say?” you ask. “Should we get to work?”

Eddie drops into a bow and makes a grand sweeping gesture towards the cat cubbies. 

“Let’s do it.”

[tiya-minuscule]

I had a thought that I hope you enjoy:

Hershel holding baby Luke for the first time, looking so awed by how tiny this baby is, then Clark, Claire and Brenda just start cooing and awing, saying he’d make a great dad, completely embarrassing him

Your ask inspired me this whole comic haha !

I have a lot of headcanon about their first meeting and a lot of things about the birth of our dear Luke Triton, but I don't want to spoil anything, so here is a few pages about this dubject haha !

Plus, I can finally draw ✨Brenda✨so it makes me REALLY happy !

I hope it brings joy to you too ;)

Were you super upset about your parent smoking too ? Or was I the only annoying kid ?

You can also support me on Patreon

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof. 

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart. 

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep. 

In the morning it’ll be fine. 

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[dead-meat]

Trans Peter Spankoffski :D

Trans rambles and Headcannons under cut!! :33

. "My tities are tenderized" obviously

. The way he emphasizes his name and being known by Peter Spankoffski.

. That being said, he's gets snippy to the workers because they mess up (basically mispronounce, he's particular about this) his name every time even though it's such an easy one that even a substitute teacher could get it.

. "Micro Peter", buddy had NOTHING.

. Stacey and Brenda not immediately knowing who he is because they don't pay that much attention and aren't used to 'Peter'

. Can obviously talk about the whole bulling aspect of being trans but you get it. MOVING ON.

. Speaking of, he does the Spiderman hands in bully the bully. Buddy loved Spiderman as a kid (still does) and that's how he got is name!! That's actually THE most trans thing you can do. (Also autistic but that's a talk for another day) Anyone can wear the mask as they say.

. He used to have his hair rlly short but then he got more comfortable in himself and his gender expression so he let it grow longer. He had a bad day and impulsively cut it before abstinence camp.

. Bow ties and suspenders every day? He try's to look gentlemanly. Also he uses them to try and sorta distract from his chest. He also sticks with layering even after he changes his look

. Hes so close with Ted and takes his advice even if he knows it's maybe not the best because he was always a guy he could look up to; a lady's man with facial hair and a decent job and the first person he told. (This is indeed not a good thing)

. Continuing with that, Ted did his first short haircut but it was kinda scrappy, Pete loved it non the less. After that Ted mad it a point to get better at it.

. He also let Pete borrow his clothes at first but then Pete spilled something on one of his shirts and so Ted bought him his own. He's still mad about the shirt though and brings it up all the time.

. Speaking of him borrowing clothes; in abstinence camp Pete originally took Ted's old shirt because he was afraid they'd make him wear a pink one. They did indeed give him a new blue shirt because Ted's was stained terribly (hypocrite)

. "I can't grow a mustache yet so, next best thing" the looking up to Ted point but also buddy is waiting to go on T (testosterone)

. I mean just LOOK AT HIM🏳️‍⚧️

. Every Joey Richter character is trans actually because I say so <3

[m30wk1ttycat]

"i love you," he'd say, awaiting some sort of a response. he'd appreciate anything, as long as it was from you. but no, all he'd get from you was a small smile, and a kiss on the cheek. you could never truly bring yourself to tell him that you loved him. you knew you did, but you never had the courage to admit it. now he's infected with the flare. he didn't tell you - how could he, when you were taken by wckd, along with the other immunes, and were just rescued after six months of absolute torture? to say it was a shock when you, brenda, and jorge helped them when they were about to get ripped to shreds by cranks was an understatement. hands bandaged and healing, you still managed to shoot down way more cranks than you should've been able to. observing your surroundings in the last city, you noticed newt rubbing his wrist as if he was in pain. when you'd question it, he'd just say he got a nasty scrape. when you'd ask if you could see it, he'd say that it was okay, and that the wound was cleaned. not once did it cross your mind that he was infected. not even when he yelled at thomas after discussing your plans. you only found out about it when you and newt were cuddling and you saw the small, but dark veins on his hand. the fingerless gloves doing little to hide it. however, you didn't question it. he wouldn't tell you, anyways. it wasn't that he didn't trust you - no, of course not. he just hated seeing you worried. oh, and worried you were, seeing newt struggle against the virus. and to think you couldn't tell him that you loved him broke you. when you did say it, you were half sure he wasn't even conscious. even if he was, it wouldn't be the same newt that you'd be saying it to. it wouldn't be the newt who'd do anything he could to keep you out of trouble in the glade. it wouldn't be the newt who'd sneak off with you during the bonfires so you could watch the stars and name them, while he played with your hair, and you laid on his chest. it wouldn't be the newt who'd always bring you random flowers from the gardens, just so he could see your sweet smile. no, this was the newt who could barely focus, the newt who was progressively getting worse. it was hard, having to watch the boy you still love fight, when he knows he can't. there wasn't a cure. if there was, it'd still be worthless, since he was now laying in your arms, his eyes glassy, and his breaths shaky, a knife through his chest. you couldn't save him - no one could -, as much as you wanted to. "i'm sorry," you sob, newt interrupting you with a "don't be" just like he always did when you apologized for things he found silly. only that now, he didn't even know why you were sorry. his hand reached up to grasp on your hair gently, moving it behind your ear. "i.. love you, y/n," he murmured, coughing when he tried to laugh. "i love you, too, newt," you whispered, "more than anything." "..i love you more, though." i fucking cried while writing this.

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi how are you? I just finished the maze runner and I am in love with newt but sadly he died…I’m traumatized lmao and heart broken so I really wanna request newt x reader I have a plot in my mind like in the end you’re the only one with newt Thomas has gone with Minho and you have no choice but to cut your wrist to give him your blood you don’t know if it’s going to work or not and you passed out because of blood lost, And you kinda wake up at the end thinking newt has gone so you went to the nearby heal to cry alone then like someone puts a jacket on you, you turn around and he’s there (giving the night we met song vibe) like the first day you came up to the glade and you were scared and newt put his jacket over you like that

I’m not good at explaining but I hope you understand

I love your work and I have read all of your newt x reader works

thank you and have a great day!

HELLO this was requested months ago I'm so so sorry it took such a long time. I was so excited to write this idea when I read it in my inbox, thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy :)

The night we met

Established Newt x gender neutral!reader

Set during tdc + flashback to tmr (movieverse)

Warnings: blood and injury, extremely fake medical procedures, language

The Gladers' laughter echoes into the sky, and you stand outside the circle of raucous celebration.

Despite the hot night air, you shiver at the sound of metallic screeches beyond the walls of the Maze; the walls of this trap.

You stand there, shaking slightly, until you feel something warm and soft being placed around your shoulders, and you turn and see him.

"You 'right there, Greenie?"

You remember Newt placing a gentle hand on your shoulder that night; your first night in the Glade, and offering quiet comforting words.

You remember the glow of firelight casting his hair into a halo, and that was the moment he became your guiding light, your beacon of warmth.

His hands are cold now, his eyes staring unseeingly into darkness.

“Y/n.” Minho’s voice is broken, choked in a way you’ve never heard before. “We have to- we’ve gotta follow Thomas.”

No. “I won’t leave him,” you say.

“Y/n…”

“I won’t,” you repeat. “We- we have to bring his body back. I can’t leave him like this.”

“We can’t just drag him there,” says Gally, gently, in his best attempt to be comforting.

“You guys go on,” you say. “Come back for us later.”

Minho exchanges a look with Frypan.

“Please,” you whisper.

Brenda reaches out a hand to squeeze your shoulder as she goes, and the four of them reluctantly leave you there, following Thomas' path towards WCKD.

Gone. The reality comes crashing down as you sit with Newt, alone, and something in you snaps.

The tears pour steadily faster, and you scrub then away roughly. “I’m sorry,” you whisper thickly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Damn it. You can't leave me like this,” you tell him. You card your fingers through his hair. “I love you. I love you, and I need you. I can't live without you, Newt.”

“Newton.” Newt wrinkles his nose as you reach up and ruffle his hair, and you laugh at his scrunched up face.

“What? Newt’s gotta come from some other name." You hum slightly, face tilted with an exaggerated thinking expression. "Newtie?”

“Slim it, shuckface.” He grabs your hand out of the air and keeps it tightly clutched in his so you can’t mess with his hair. You grin at the tiny smile on his face, and wiggle your fingers in his grip.

You reach for the knife in his chest, gripping it against your palm and pulling it out, before draping your gloves over the wound to cover it.

You wipe the blackened blood on your pants, swallowing bile as you gaze at the smear.

Blood. Blood. What if…

Teresa said Thomas’ blood was the cure, but what if yours works too?

You gaze at the knife in your hands.

“You’d say I’m stupid for doing what I’m about to do,” you tell Newt. “But I think I’d do anything right about now, if it could bring you back.”

You cut into your wrist, bright red blood springing out immediately.

Shuck, where do I-

You expose the chest wound again and pour your blood into it. Please, please work.

More, you need more. You cut your other wrist open and Newt’s too. Get it into his veins.

Your vision starts to blur at the edges, as you pour your blood into Newt, trying to pour life back into him.

You feel yourself fading, and you fumble to bandage your wrists quickly before letting yourself fall into darkness, slumping against the boy you love. Please come back to me.

⭒----⭒

You wake up slowly, fighting to cut through the haze in your mind.

As you sit up, your eyes fall on Newt, still lying beside you, unmoving.

He's gone. Stupid. Stupid to think you could've brought him back.

Suddenly you can't look at his face anymore. You lurch to your feet and stumble away, walking out of this shadowed place, out of the building, away from the streets.

You end up sitting on some hill nearby, alone in the grass hugging your knees, the wind blowing through your hair and drying the tears as they flow down your face.

You don't know how long you sit there, before you feel something being placed on your shoulders, the action achingly familiar.

You don't turn at first, not wanting to hope, until you hear a soft "Alright there, Greenie?"

You whip around, and there he is. Kneeling in the grass beside you, a smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

A sob escapes your throat as you dive towards him, throwing your arms around his body, feeling it warm, solid, alive.

The force of your body colliding with Newt's knocks him into the ground, flat on his back against the grass, but he just laughs and pulls you closer, his arms tight around you as you feel him press his face into your hair.

"Newt-"

"I'm here, I'm sorry,"

You shake your head, pulling back to look at his face.

It's gone, you realise, running your thumb across his cheek. The black veins that were streaked across him just hours ago have faded.

"You're okay," you murmur, more for yourself than him.

Newt smiles. "Yeah, I'm okay." He leans up, closer to you, and captures your mouth in a kiss. He tastes of black bitterness and salt, but you chase his lips anyway, until you're both out of breath.

You break apart as you hear static in your walkie-talkie. "...Y/n, you there?"

You grab the device to reply, one hand still clasped in Newt's. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Where?" asks Minho. "We're back where you were earlier; Jorge and Vince found us at WCKD, we've got a Berg nearby, but Thomas got shot so we have to get going."

"I'm just on a hill nearby," you tell him. "I'll come to you, stay there."

You turn to Newt. "You ready?"

He nods. "Yeah, let's go."

⭒----⭒

You walk in together, and you see the moment everyone's faces change, snapping to shock.

Minho's eyes jump to yours, like he's asking for confirmation, and you nod, a smile forming on your face.

Newt gives a little wave, almost nervously, and then Minho moves, dropping the gun in his hands and charging towards Newt, grabbing him into a hug.

Brenda's next, punching Newt in the arm before embracing him tightly, then Gally, and then Frypan, who doesn't let go until Minho butts in with a "alright guys, we should probably get going, Tommy's bleeding out, and we've got a safe haven to get to."

Newt holds your hand in his, tossing his free arm over Minho's shoulder. "Yeah, let's get going. Let's go home."

Thank you to @jinjinchouxcream for the brilliance behind this fic idea <3

[paranormalactivity5]

✮If you film me while I suck it you can be a superstar!✮

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Famous!Fem!reader

*This takes place in 1990 simply because cameras were smaller*

A/N: ok second ficc!!! I kinda don't like this tho but it got me out of writers' block soooooo. Also, love the writers' block after one fic. I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!

WARNINGS: P in V, oral sex (f receiving), one thigh slap, chocking, lmk if anything else but I don't think so

word count: 1.2k

You were sitting there staring at yourself in the mirror occasionally taking a nervous peek at the not yet recording camera set on the table next to you, waiting for Eddie to get home. It was Valentine's Day and you finally had the day off but just your luck, Eddie had press all day for Corroded Coffins' new album, you really couldn't be more proud of your boy but…really? Today? You had loved Valentine's Day even before getting into a relationship, just seeing people be happy and in love was nice, and now you were one of them but of course, Eddie's manager Brenda had to take that away, however, you still had some tricks up your sleeve.

Eddie had bought up the idea of possibly recording yourselves having sex, which you were apprehensive about considering your status but you were very intrigued by the idea…..you didn't tell him that though. You wanted to wait for the right moment to bring it back up and this was it. You were dressed up in a light tan sheer little two piece that was littered with little red hearts, it fit you fucking perfectly. He was going to lose his mind.

The second you heard his car pull up in the driveway you threw on your regular fluffy black robe with little comic skulls on it and put the chicken pot pie you had prepared earlier in the oven, you only put it in now because you knew you would be occupied for awhile. You greeted him at the door saying your hellos, and a quick peck on the lips “mmmhp is that chicken pot pie?” he asked smiling “yup, just put it in the oven”. He tells you about his day and all the interviews he did but all you can think about is how hot he looks in those black jeans, that black tee shirt, and leather jacket. He turns around to hang his jacket up and you quickly drop your robe, exposing yourself. He turns back to face you and you swear you can see his Brian short circuit, he does that every time he sees you like this but just as he also does every time he rapidly gatherers himself and a smirk appears on his face. “Well damn baby…” he always speaks so smoothly “I mean I knew you would probably do something but shit, I wasn't expecting this” You can already see him beginning to harden in his jeans which in turn makes heat pool in your stomach.

He walks over and pulls you into him, kissing passionately, only ever pulling apart for air. “Jump” the command from him is so simple but it makes you oh so excited. You do as he says wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands grip your ass, he always holds you so effortlessly, he really is one of those guys that is so much stronger than they look. He begins to walk into your bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Once he gently sets you down on the bed he pulls up to remove his shirt he leans down again but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. He looks confused when you walk over to the dresser, until you hand him the camera.

He looks like he could blow his load right then and there. “...Are you sure?” he asks “Yes.” you say breathless and quickly reattach your mouth to his. He lays you down and turns the camera on but confuses you when he hands you the camera. He lowers himself and starts laying kisses down your stomach and on your hip bones, your breath starts to quicken and you can feel your clit throbbing with need. He continues down, now sucking hickeys into your inner thighs. After what feels like forever he ghosts’ his lips over right where you need him, you can feel his long hair tickling your thighs. He looks au at you with nothing but want in his eyes “Record this baby. Record me making you cum on my tongue”.

He peels your sheer panties off you, the string of your wetness to your underwear could be considered pornographic. The feeling of the cold room was quickly replaced by his warm mouth. You let out a loud moan. the second his mouth is on you he goes to work. Licking around and sucking your on your clit. You use your hand to rub your tit through your bra but he quickly stops his 

actions and slaps you on your thigh causing you to let out a whine. “Keep the camera on me. Or I stop.” he says sternly but you know its killing him not to have his mouth on you right now. You place the camera back on him and he dives back in. You can feel the tension building in your abdomen. For the first time, you look down and you can see him grinding himself into the edge of the bed, and feel him groaning into you; the vibrations are what send you over the edge.

He continued his work on your pussy letting you ride out your orgasm. As soon as you come down from your high his mouth is on yours and he tugs his pants off and puts the camera on the side table where it can get the perfect view. He looks at you for permission, you breathlessly reply “Yes” looking up at him with so much want you can barely see straight. He lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in you both let out moans of relief. He quickly begins to build up his pace, You're both moaning so loud  “fuck. Fuck yes. Take it” he groans. he’s pounding into you so good it’s mind numbing.

He pulls the cups of your bra down “Lemme see those perfect tits babe” and begins palming your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Oh my god Eddie” you moan out shakeily. He slides his hand up your body and around your throat just barely putting enough pressure on your pulse point to make your head spin. For the second time tonight, you feel the pressure build and you can tell he’s feeling the same from the way his thrusts are becoming more sloppy and his glorious abdominal muscles are tightening.

“Cum in me, please, Eddie cum in me” you beg him. He leans down to kiss you and his pelvis rubs against you triggering your orgasm, the feeling of you clenching around him triggers his own. You both ride out your highs moaning into each other's mouths. You now lay next to each other with him still inside you feeling the after shocks of your orgasms. “Oh my god….when was the last time I told you how much I love you?” he asks while chuckling sarcastically and you lightly slap him on the chest. Just in time for a nice dinner, after which you will probably show him some gratitude on your knees. 

[itsjustrosee]

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

pt. 1, Pt. 2

ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot!

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Sonya, Aris, and also Brenda. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team. Enemies to lovers

Word count: 4.4k

! I proof read but there might still be spelling mistakes !

You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

[ponstermenis-writing]

✩ (There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays ✩

Darrel Curtis & Everyone Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Darbit

̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙冬˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆̣̥

Ever since their folks died, Darry’s been handling the holidays.

The first year they didn’t do anything—they died relatively close to thanksgiving, so it felt wrong to celebrate. But ever since then he goes overboard .

None of them are complaining, a lot of greasers don’t celebrate at all—Johnny and Steve both didn’t even know what Christmas was before the Curtis folks introduced it to them. The only reason Dallas knew was because, well, New York is kind of the place for Christmas.

Their mother loved the holidays. She and Dad would take off work and spend the day with them—it was a lot like those hallmark movies she forced them to watch. Darry didn’t dare let those memories die—he’d put up all the decorations on the first weekend of December, The Beach Boys and Brenda Lee would be on the record player until January.

It was currently December 23rd. Darry didn’t plan on waiting this long to put up decor. But he’d been swamped with work and he knew Pony and Soda would half-ass it. He enlisted Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit to help.

“Do people even use Nutcrackers?” Two-Bit asked, opening and closing the mouth. “It’s more of a looks thing, Two.” Soda laughs, trying desperately to hang up lights over the fireplace. “Yeah, lord knows Darry doesn’t have enough decorations already.” Two-Bit teases, laughing nervously when Darry glares at him.

“When you finally get your own place, you’re gonna wish I was still around.” Darry gripes, untangling lights for the roofline. “Aw, you wouldn’t come with me?” Two-Bit says, putting his hands in a prayer motion with an obnoxious pout in his face. “I couldn’t deal with the mess you bring.” Darry can’t help but laugh at his own comment—Two-Bit is less amused, an offended sound coming out of his mouth.

“Do you boys want to help me put these up?” Darry asks before Two-Bit can say anything in return. Johnny and Ponyboy share a look—they always managed to communicate without ever actually saying anything. “Sure.” Ponyboy says, standing. “Beats translating Feliz Navidad for Soda again.” Johnny adds.

Soda whips around to frown at him, looking utterly heartbroken. “The lyrics never change, man.” Johnny laughs, bumping into him as they pass by.

Getting onto the roof was always a struggle. Ponyboy’s terrified of heights—but putting up the lights out there makes him feel grown. Darry lifts them up one by one, letting both boys stand on his shoulders and hoist themselves up. Darry can reach The roofline by using a small stepladder from work, so he’s never really had to climb up there.

Putting the outdoor lights up used to be Darry and Mr.Curtis’s job—it’s probably why he’s so insistent that one of the boys do it with him—like it’s a right of passage, or something.

He tosses the lights and the little plastic clips up to the boys and tells them where to put ‘em—he usually fixes the lights after they’re done anyway, but he knows the boys both like helping out.

They’re about halfway done when Johnny pauses, glancing down at the ground just past Darry.

“Jesus.” Dallas groans. “Going all out again this year, huh Darry?” He teases, standing beside him with his arms crossed. Dallas is what the gang lovingly called, a grouch. He doesn’t like the holidays, even when he was little he’d roll his eyes at the mention.

“Hey Dally!” Johnny calls down to him, leaning over the roofline to smile at him. Darry doesn’t miss how Dallas falters—like Johnny’s gonna fall and he’ll have to catch him. “Be careful! Jesus.” Dallas grunts, The other three laughing at him—Dallas was easily the least cautious of them all. But he’d wrap Johnny up in bubble wrap if he could.

“I thought you were going to New York for Christmas?” Johnny asks, ignoring his comment and still very much leaning over the roof.

“I couldn’t leave you guys all alone.” Dallas shrugs. Darry knows deep down that he loves the holidays with them—but he’s smart enough not to comment too obviously. “Besides, nothing up there I haven’t seen before.”

Darry can’t help but smile, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Dallas isn’t much younger than he is—but just like the rest of the gang, he’ll always be Darry’s little brother. “You wouldn’t mind helping us out, would you Dal?” He asks, glancing up at the roof.

Dallas scoffs. “No, Than—“ he pauses, seeing Johnny stare down at him hopefully. “Fine.” He groans, squeezing onto the stepladder beside him and hoisting himself up. He makes a point to drag Johnny and Pony both back a bit so they won’t fall.

Even if they did, they’d crash into snow-covered bushes just a few feet under them. If it were any higher, Darry’d be worried too—but Two-Bit skydived from the height when he was really drunk last summer, so he knew it was fine.

Dallas was actually pretty damn good at putting the lights up where they belong. “For someone who hates it, you sure do have an eye for Christmas decor.” Ponyboy jokes, narrowly dodging the smack Dallas aimed at the back of his head.

Just as their hands were beginning to freeze off, they were finished. Darry helped them all back down—Much to Dally’s chagrin, he did not like help in any sense of the word. They all stood back to take in the house.

“Looks shit.” Dallas says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’ll look better at night.” Pony retorts matter-of-factly. “Speaking of,” Darry says, heading inside while the others trail after him. “You both are staying over tonight, right?”

“I don’t see why not.” Dallas shrugs, slinging his arm around Johnny's shoulder. They all look at the boy expectantly. “I think my Ma wants me home.” He mutters, not looking at them. Dallas scoffs, Ponyboy frowns—but Darry has learned how to get him to stay.

“Aw… I already started making some Mac & Cheese for you.” Darry sighs—he hates guilting Johnny—really, he does. But hey, it works. “Yeah! I thought you were gonna walk with me tonight, too!” Ponyboy adds, looking at the boy expectantly.

“I-I’m sure they won’t miss me too much.” Johnny says finally, giving them an awkward smile. Darry and Pony share a secret high-five—they officially had the whole gang together for Christmas. Two-Bit and Steve often go off with their families for the actual night of Christmas Eve, but the night before works just as well.

“Geez, if I hear one more Christmas song, I’m gonna riot.” Dallas says as they walk inside—hearing Perry Como croon on about being home for the holidays. “My house, my rules.” Darry says, shucking off his jacket. “Which means the Christmas music stays on .” Dallas groans loud enough to alert everyone else of his presence.

“Well, if it isn’t New York’s sweetheart!” Two-Bit calls from the living room. “Glad to know you stayed home, Dal.” He teases, nudging him lightly as he walks back. Two-Bit was the first person of the gang Dallas became pals with—Two was one of the few people who could poke fun at him without getting clocked.

“Yeah, Knew you fella’s would be lonely without me.” Dallas says—Darry doesn’t miss the glance back at Johnny, Dally’s un-official-but-also-un-questionable little brother. Two-Bit just smiles, handing him a balled up chunk of tinsel. “We sure missed the extra pair of hands!”

Dallas groans but does as he’s asked. Johnny goes back to putting up the candles, Pony tries his best to hang ornaments on the tree.

The candles actually weren’t something the Curtis folks ever did—in fear of burning the house down. But ever since Johnny told them that he was Jewish and the closest he’d ever gotten to a holiday with his folks was Hanukkah when he was really little, how could Darry say no?

Annually, at least two ornaments are smashed and one string of lights stops working. Two-Bit found this year's string, holding it up triumphantly. “Lookie here!” He calls, showing it to Darry before he trashes it. Darrel can’t help but chuckle. “It’s not a competition, you know.” He says, letting Two-Bit throw an arm around his shoulder—he’s a little shorter, so his arm has to reach awkwardly around his neck.

“Yeah, well. I still won.” He says, leaning in to smirk in Darry’s face. He’s shoved away a moment later when Ponyboy shuffles into the kitchen. They aren’t very… open about their relationship yet. Johnny and Soda both found out the hard way—but everyone else had no clue. It wasn’t homophobia they were worried about—it was the teasing.

“Can you make us some hot chocolate?” Ponyboy begs—he’s obviously talking about him and Johnny, but the poor boy can’t ask for anything even after all these years. Even when he was stuck in that wheelchair—he was insistent that nobody else move him around or help him carry things. He could walk on his own now, but his back still hurt when he’d stand for too long.

“Sure,” Darry says, smiling evilly. “If you can name all the reindeer I will.”

Ponyboy just groans, walking off. Two-Bit chuckles, grabbing two hot chocolate packets anyway. “I don’t get why he doesn’t make it himself.” He says, heating up some milk in the microwave—after many failed attempts at dinner, Two-Bit Matthews is not allowed to touch the stovetop. Ever.

“He claims that I make it best.” Darry shrugs. “He’s just too lazy to mix it all the way—there’s nothing I do different.”

“Really? Are you sure there isn’t a secret ingredient?” Two-Bit askes, making a kissy-face as he dumps far too many marshmallows into both cups. Darry just rolls his eyes.

Two-Bit walks the cups to the boys and Darry follows—partially to know he doesn’t spill it, partially because he feels lonely in the kitchen by himself. Ponyboy takes both of them gratefully, handing Johnny his cup.

Darry can’t help but feel love surge in his chest—he stands in the doorway that leads to the kitchen, watching over his boys. Johnny picks the marshmallows off and hands them to Dallas, leaning his head on his shoulder while he unravels tinsel. Ponyboy leans against Johnny's legs—he’s on the floor while Dallas and Johnny are on the couch—and sips idly at his own cup, humming along to the music. Soda and Steve keep trying to shove each other under the mistletoe, Two-Bit cheering them on.

“You look happy.” A voice says from behind him. Darry jumps halfway out of his skin, turning around so quickly that he almost smacks his head against the wooden door frame.

Tim Shepard gives him an amused look. Even he looks rather Christmas-y—he’s all bundled up with a hat and gloves that he definitely got from Mr.Curtis a few years back. He’s got a few presents in his hand and a slight smile on his face.

“You scared me.” Darry mutters, breathing out a sigh. “But yeah, I guess I am.” He spares a glance back—Dallas, Johnny, and Ponyboy are all staring at him. “Whatchu’ got there?” Darry asks Tim, trying to ignore the eyes on them.

Tim groans, handing him the boxes. “The bottom two are from Curly—to Johnny and Pony, I guess. But apparently they can’t know it’s from him.” He says, chuckling. “Top three are from me.” He says, not looking at him.

“Well, thank you.” He says, glancing down. “Can I ask who they’re for?”

Tim crosses his arms. “You, Dallas, and Johnny.” He shrugs—Darrel can tell he’s embarrassed. Tim might be one of the most hardcore guys currently in the house, but even he has his own nervous ticks. “I thought I owed you something—y’know, for all those times you gave us dinner and shit. Thanks, by the way—I don’t think I ever said that.” He rambles, still not daring to meet his eyes.

Darry can’t help but smile. “It was no problem.” He says simply, tucking the gifts under his arm. “I assume you have a reason to give something to Johnny and Dallas as well?” He says—he can’t help his teasing tone.

Tim glares at him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They’re good kids.” He says simply, leaning back on the banister by the front door. “Someone’s gotta hang out with Curly, Y’know? Better Cade than anyone else.” Tim shrugs. “Dal has dragged both of ‘em home more times than I can count.”

Darry nods, setting the gifts down. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” He says, dragging a plate from the cabinets. “I assume they shouldn’t know these are from you either?” He can’t help but smile—he dumps the rest of their leftover cookies on the plate and wraps it with saran wrap. Tim pretends not to notice. “Looks like they already do.” He chuckles, glancing back into the living room.

Tim takes the plate gratefully, tucking it under his jacket before saying goodbye with his head ducked down. He’s gone a second later—cat-like agility letting him out of the house before Darrel can even answer him.

“Aw, you gave him the rest?” Ponyboy pouts, walking into the kitchen once Tim is gone—Johnny shuffling in behind him. “I’ll make more.” Darry chuckles. He finds the gift with his name on it and removes it from the pile, handing the rest to the two boys. “These are for you.”

“Really?” Johnny can’t help but say hopefully, glancing back at the door. Darry knows deep down that he looks up to Tim about as much as he does Dallas—he was a Shepard before he was ever a Curtis. And Tim is arguably cooler than Dal. “Uh huh,” Darry smiles, hiding his own behind his back. “One of thems for Dally, okay?”

Johnny and Ponyboy nod and walk off into the living room. Darry can hear Dallas laugh when he’s handed the gift.

He waits till they can’t see him to open his own. It’s simple—just a packet of new socks. But he knows it’s a lot from the Shephards. It means Tim was listening too—sometimes he’ll help Darrel out at work for extra cash—he remembers complaining about the holes in his socks that he couldn’t replace. Darry smiles to himself, tucking the pack back into the wrapping paper—it had been so horribly done, but it was clear Tim tried—and putting it aside.

He’s halfway through getting out the things for a new batch of cookies when Dallas and Johnny enter the kitchen.

“Me and Johnnycakes are gonna go say thank you.” Dallas says, ruffling Johnny’s hair. “No you aren’t.” Ponyboy calls from the living room. “You’re gonna make fun of ‘em!”

Darry crosses his arms, raising a brow at the two. “Are you?” He asks, glaring only at Dallas. “I got something I gotta give to Curly.” Johnny mutters—poor boy thinks he’s angry at him too. Darry just places a kiss on his hairline and sends him off, reminding him to stay warm even for the short walk.

“C’mon Dar, he knew this was gonna happen.” Dallas says, smirking. “Don’t be rude, Dallas. You should be happy he thought of you at all.” Most of the time—Dallas and Tim aren’t on the greatest terms. Darrry knows that better than anyone, having to patch them both up after a nasty fight or two.

“Ya hear that, Dal?” Two-Bit says, sticking his head in the room. He holds a hand up to his ear and pretends to listen. “That’s Santa Claus calling you an asshole.” He teases. Dallas smacks him on the back of the head—just hard enough to sting. “I’ll take the naughty list and shove it right up your ass.” He bites, still glaring at the redhead.

Darry rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna go over there and say thank you.” He commands. Dallas isn’t scared of him by any means—but everyone knows it’s not the best idea to anger someone twice your size. “I’m sure Johnny won’t let you be rude, anyway.” Two-Bit laughs as Dallas saunters off.

“What’d Tim give yuh’?” He asks once Dallas is gone, eyeing the rewrapped gift. “Socks.” Darry says simply, grabbing the ingredients for the cookies. “How sentimental.” Two-Bit chuckles, hoisting himself up to sit on the countertop right where he’s trying to work. “I bet my gift is better.”

“I hope it isn’t similar to what you tried last year.” Darry groaned, shoving him lightly to get him off the parchment paper. “You loved my gift last year!” Two-Bit says defensively. “Besides, it turned out to be, like… the best coming out ever.”

“I’m sure Johnny and Soda would disagree with you.”

“They’ve got their own things going on.” Twobit shrugs, leaning back on the kitchen wall. Darry pauses, raising a brow.

“Come on… don’t say you haven’t noticed.”

“Notice what?”

“You know what!”

“No—No I…I really don't.”

Two-bit groans. “I mean, don’t stay Steve and Soda aren’t a little… suspicious.”

“You act like they’re committing a crime.” Darry can’t help but laugh. “I think it is, in some states.” Two-Bit shrugs. Darry just rolls his eyes. “What about Johnny, though? What’s going on with him?”

“Darry…” Two-Bit sighs, looking at him like he’s about to destroy his innocence. “Two teenage boys don’t lock the door when they’re alone for no reason.”

He has to pause and think for a second. He immediately slaps the man upside the head, causing him to topple forward and almost hit the floor. “I don’t want to hear that!” Darry whisper-yells, acutely aware of the gang still in the living room.

I mean… he assumed something was going on. But he really doesn’t want to know what his sixteen year old brother—who in his eyes, is still a baby—gets up to with his seventeen-almost-eighteen year old friend when they’re alone—he doesn’t want to hear about what Sodapop is up to either!

“Communication is key in every relationship—“ Two-Bit begins as he’s shoved out of the kitchen. “Hey, ow! You’re only upset because it’s true—“ he pauses, glancing up at the doorway.

Ponyboy is standing there with an amused look on his face, glancing at the two. “Was gonna ask where you wanted this.” He says, laughing as he holds up an ornament Sodapop made when he was real young. “I’ll just guess.” He’s gone a second later, letting Two-Bit finally right himself. He puts his hands up in defeat and shuffles out as well.

Darry is halfway through making the cookie dough when Dallas and Johnny show up again. Dallas now has a reasonably sized bruise on his jaw—he definitely did not listen. Johnnys still laughing when they get inside, pulling off his jacket.

“Looks like you two had fun.” Darry says, raising a brow at Dallas—the blonde just walks off with a groan. “Tim was the only one home.” Johnny says, holding up his little present still. “Bummer.” Darry chuckles, watching Dallas throw himself down on the couch.

Johnny lingers behind a second too long, glancing at the bowl in his hand. “Wanna help?” Darry asks, knowing Johnny won’t say anything on his own. “Uh—“ He mutters, glancing back into the living room. “I uhm… I promised Pony I’d help him with the ornaments. Sorry Darry.”

“No problem.” Darry says, going back to mixing. “Can you grab Steve and Soda while you’re in the other room?” He asks. Johnny nods quickly and scampers off before anything else can be said.

Steve and Soda are his sous chefs when it comes to dessert. Not because they’re good at it—but instead because they eat the batter or dough, and will not hesitate to complain if they don’t get any.

He hands the spoon to Soda the second he’s there, trusting him with it while he searches the cupboards for vanilla extract. He’s in the middle of his search when he hears giggling from the other room.

Upon further inspection, Johnny and Ponyboy seem to be messing around under the doorway to the hall all of their rooms are in. “Cut it out, Pone!“ Johnny laughs, red-faced and actively trying to shove the boy off. Pony is trying to pull him closer, making kissy faces and missing Johnny’s face entirely. “It’s mistletoe, John! We have to!”

Two-Bit is sitting on the couch next to Dallas—who is really into getting that tinsel untangled, giving Darry a knowing look. The older simply rolls his eyes, heading back in the kitchen. He doesn't remember ever owning or putting up mistletoe, and he’d bet money that he was right about who did.

“Jesus, how much did you two eat?” He gasps, staring at the—now half full—bowl. “I don’t appreciate the fat-shaming, Darrel.” Sodapop says, crossing his arms. Steve wipes some of the dough off of the corner of his mouth, nodding along. “Yeah, We’re growing boys!”

Darry can’t help but laugh, nudging the both of them out of the way. “You both are considered legal adults in the eyes of the law.” He says simply, mixing in the vanilla extract into the bowl before the two finish it off.

He’s able to get it into the oven with only a few instances of him slapping the boy’s hands away with a spoon. The best friends give up once the oven is shut, retreating back into the living room. Darrel sets the timer and heads back into the living room to check on the progress.

It truly does look beautiful—just like their mother had done. Johnny and Pony were still quietly placing ornaments on the tree, Steve and Soda were back to string garlands on the mantle, Dallas had finally got the tinsel unraveled and was trying his best to be careful putting it on the tree—realistically the tinsel should go first, but he's so proud of the boy for trying that he doesn't dare comment. Two-Bit is off to the side fucking with the nutcrackers—because he’s Two-Bit.

Darry watches silently from the doorway. His boys truly are some genuine souls, aren’t they? He used to be so confused when Mrs.Curtis would watch quietly, smiling to herself like she truly had it all. Darry finally understands that feeling—love swelling in his chest, he can’t help but feel his eyes get wet.

Two-Bit had somehow managed to sneak behind him. “Looks like a hallmark movie.” He says, leaning his chin on Darry’s shoulder and watching alongside him. “Yeah—Yeah, it really does.” Darry chuckles, his voice cracking as he's unable to hold back just how happy he is. Two-Bit smiles, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “You did good.” He whispers. “You raised some pretty hardcore kids. We really are like a big happy family.”

Darry has to take deep breaths to stop himself from sobbing—has he ever been this happy before? Has he ever felt so content?

Two-Bit just chuckles, placing something in his hands before walking off to get back to his work. It's thin and celluloid—upon closer inspection, it's a polaroid. It truly is something that should be something put in a museum.

It's a wide shot of the living room. He’s not sure when it was taken—Clearly it was Two-Bit’s work, but he’d been idly watching them all for half an hour now. In the middle of the picture is the tree. Dallas has his arm around Johnny’s shoulder while he’s pointing at one of the ornaments—it's one Mr.Curtis had gotten for Johnny on his first Christmas with them. You can only see the back of Dallas’s head, but you can just barely see the smile on Johnny’s face. Ponyboy is right beside him smiling just as wide, resting his head on Johnny’s shoulder while he listens in. To their right is the fireplace, setting a yellow-ish glow on the whole room—Steve and Soda are meticulously putting the garland in place and fixing the candles in-between, Soda’s got his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth—something he always did when he was focusing–and Steve is very clearly giving him orders.

To the left, just barely in frame, it's him. He really does look like his father—standing with his arms crossed and leaning against the wooden doorframe, a content smile on his face as he looks out at the whole scene.

Darry rushed off to his room before anyone could see. He sits down on his bed—staring down at the picture as tears fill his eyes. Something about having the memory caught in place forever really got to him. The fact that Two-Bit knew to take a picture, the warm glow the whole room gave, the content look on everyone's faces.

Darry didn’t consider himself an emotional being. That was Soda’s job—he was the dream-crusher who made sure everything went how it needed to. But in moments like these he couldn’t help loving them—he knows one day they’ll all move on and only visit him when they have to. But for now, all his boys are home. They’re home, they’re happy… they’re safe.

A few quiet knocks hit his door and he immediately knows who it is. He wipes away his tears and tucks the photo in his lap. “You can come in, Johnny.” He says, willing his voice not to crack. Johnny peeks his head in a moment later, looking all guilty.

“Are you okay?” He asks, frowning when he sees Darry’s sad look. He doesn’t really know how to explain this feeling to him—Johnny’s never had a family other than them, and everytime he gets comfortable here—his home, blood be damned—he’d always be forced back into the house with the two people who love him the most. “I’m alright baby, just a lot of feelings.” He replies, giving the boy the best smile he can muster.

Johnny gasps, shutting the door behind him. “Are you crying?” He whispers, brows furrowed and eyes wide. “Is this because I broke that ornament? I-I’m real sorry, Darry—It just slipping from my hands, I really didn’t—”

Darry interrupts him with a chuckle, holding his arms out for a hug. Johnny responds immediately, stepping up and letting Darry hug him. “No, it's not that.” Darry says, ruffling his hair. “I don’t care about some silly ornament.”

“Y-You sure…? I think I saw one like it at the corner store—”

“Johnny.” Darry interrupts, he knows the boy’ll talk himself back into that mindset that everything is his fault if he doesn’t. “I promise you, I’m not upset. Just happy tears.” He says, letting Johnny sit down on the bed beside him. He hands Johnny the photo, watching his face closely. “Gee…” Johnny mutters, smiling down at it. “Golly Darry, I think I’m gonna cry too.”

Darrel chuckles, ruffling his hair. “I think the cookies are done, if you want one.” He says, nudging him. “They should still be soft, I know you like them that way.” Johnny jumps to his feet–giddy with excitement. “Thanks Darry!” He says, handing him back the photo and rushing off to the kitchen. He can hear the boy excitedly tell Pony about the finished cookies and them both rushing to grab them.

He manages to fix himself up before he heads back out. “Everything alright?” Dallas askes as he passes, not looking at him. “Of course.” Darry smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly. “Just, happy to have everyone here.” He says, deciding there's no point hiding the wetness of his voice from his earlier sob-fest. Dallas, who was never big on expressing his feelings, rolls his eyes with a half-hearted smile. “Jeez, You’re a big ol’ sap. Y’know that?”

“You’re not any better.” Darrel teases, shoving him lightly before heading back into the kitchen. Johnny and Pony are splitting one of the cookies in half, idly watching the TV from the kitchen counter. “Any good?” Darrel askes, taking one.

“Mph—“ Ponyboy grunts, nodding his head with his mouth full. “Very good.” He adds once he finishes chewing. Darry can’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair. “Make sure not to eat them all.”

“I can’t believe you’d think so low of us.” Ponyboy replies defensively, grabbing another from the tin. “Just don’t want you two having too much sugar,” Darrel chuckles, moving the tin away from both boys. “With the advent calendar and all the candy, more cookies is the last thing you need. You’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t finish the whole calendar on day one.” Ponyboy laughs around a mouthful of cookie, reaching for his cup of water when he chokes. Darry just sighs, taking his own and sauntering back to the living room.

He sits down on the couch beside Two-Bit, breaking the cookie in half and giving one to him. Two-Bit shoves the whole thing in his mouth without blinking, watch the lovey-dovey Christmas movie on the TV.

“Which one is this?”

“Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit mutters—though he pretends to sound uninterested, he refuses to take his eyes off the screen. Darrel raises a brow, watching the screen for a moment before deciding that this is a very horrible movie. “Didn’t know you were into this kind of thing.”

“ ‘M not.” Two-Bit says defensively. “Every channel is playing a somethin’ Christmas, this was just the least-worst one.”

Darrel was sitting there for about half an hour before he realizes that he’s actually watching this piece-of-shit movie. “Darry.” Two-Bit says as the credits roll, glancing over at him. “Hmm?” Darrel hums, still not taking his eyes off the screen.

“You’re my Christmas Angel.” Two-Bit whispers, making a kissy face. Darrel finally looks at him, grimacing. “Wow, that was…” he holds back a gag. “ Horrible . That was really horrible.”

“Just take the compliment.” Two-Bit groans, leaning away from him as if Darrel has betrayed him. Darry just rolls his eyes, a smile playing on his lips—he pulls himself to his feet a moment later, going through the box of Christmas ornaments.

He pulled the delicate star from the very bottom, covered in layers of bubble wrap and packing paper. Ponyboy is standing right behind him when he pulls it out, ready to take it in his hand. “C’mon Johnny!” He calls into the kitchen. “We gotta put the star on the tree!”

Johnny comes out of the kitchen a moment later, Dallas in tow. “Do I need to lift you up or something?” Johnny askes, glancing at the very delicate items in the boy’s hands. “I don’t think you can.” Ponyboy chuckles.

“Hey! I’ve been doing very well since the fire, y’know! Soda’s been taking me to the gym an—“

“That's not what I meant.” Ponyboy interrupts, placing a hand over the boy's mouth—he tears it away when he licks it, wiping it on Darry’s shirt because… well, why wouldn’t he? “You’re like—5’8” man, I’d crush you.”

“And a half!” Johnny adds, crossing his arms. “And I’ll have you know I picked Dally up once.”

“Barely.” Dallas chuckles from behind him. “My back still hurts from when you dropped me.”

“I don’t want to hear anything from anyone else about a hurt back.” Johnny grumbles, glaring at him. Two-Bit throws his head back laughing on the couch, pulling Steve and Soda out of Soda’s room.

Ponyboy just rolls his eyes, scooping Johnny up and helping him onto his shoulder. Johnny fights it at first, cutting it out the second he’s in the air in fear of plummeting to the floor. Johnny grasps onto Ponyboy’s head. “Don’t drop me!”

“I won’t.” Pony laughs, handing the star up to him.

It takes Ponyboy a minute to get to the tree, trying hard not to run into things with Johnny's hands very much over his eyes. It takes the boy a minute to lift his arm up, careful not to lean forward too much. He’s finally able to stick it on there, already begging to be let down.

Darry picks him up by the armpits and plops him on the ground as gracefully as he can. Johnny lets out a sigh of relief, thanking him.

They all stand back to look at the tree, fully lit with glittering tinsel and shiny ornaments. It’s already beginning to get dark outside—though it’s only five. Darry wants to stand and stare at it all night—but he knows these boys need to eat.

“I’ll go start dinner.” He says, wiping his hands on his shirt just to bush them. “You boys are free for the day.”

Ponyboy tugs on his shirt sleeve just before he walks off. “Can we go outside and play in the snow?” He whisper-asks—looking at him pleadingly. Darry—Already knowing this won’t end well, but also knowing how desperately they all wanted to go in the snow…

“Alright.” he sighs. “Just make sure you’re all bundled up, and don’t track snow through the house.” Ponyboy agrees excitedly, already running off.

Sure enough—Dallas, Pony, and Johnny all pass by him a moment later decked out in snow gear. Dallas gives him a thumbs up, as if to say ‘don’t worry, I’ll watch them’.

He’s halfway through mixing up the Mac & Cheese he promised when the three reminding members of that gang saunter into the kitchen. “Can we help?” Soda askes.

Darry smiles, ruffling his hair. “Of course you can.”

It went by a lot quicker with all hands on deck—Darry even managed to catch a photo of them all cooking, and one of the other three in the snow. He kept a close eye on his helpers—Two barely got the ham out in time, Soda put way too much sugar in the cake, Steve spent more time drinking the pasta sauce out of the ladle than he did making the noodles.

But they got it done.

They did it together, too.

“Boys!” Darry calls out, opening the window to stick his head out. Dallas was in the middle of pelting Ponyboy in the face with a snowball—it hit the second Darry finished talking. “Dinners ready.” Darry chuckles.

The three of them come barreling in a second later, smart enough to take off their shoes. Darry takes their jackets, sending them all into a room to change into warm clothes.

He tosses the jackets on the porch, shutting the door extra tight behind him to keep the snow out.

He puts down the—Christmas themed, of course—tablecloth, setting up plates and silverware. He puts the different pans full of food along the counter-top, very impressed with their work.

“Alright guys, one at a time.” He says just as the other three walk out of the rooms—wearing too-big sweaters and sweatpants. They all go one at a time and dump food onto their plate, sitting down at the dining table in their usual spots.

“Jesus, John—“ Dallas chuckles, picking leaves out of his hair. “Your hair is like a breeding ground for all the plants on the ground, man.” He says, ruffling it to see if any more leaves or twigs would fall out. “Never call my hair a ‘breeding ground’ again.” Johnny mutters, annoyed, smacking Dallas’s hand away—a piece of ham hanging from his mouth.

They eat mostly in silence, forks clinking against porcelain as they all dig in. Darry knows he isn’t the best cook on the planet—but watching them all tear it apart like they’re starved definitely makes him feel a bit better about it.

Darry collects all the plates when they’re done, dumping them in the sink—he tells himself he’ll wash them before bed, but he’s almost 100% sure he won’t. “Everyone in the living room,” he says, helping Johnny out of his seat. “I have a present for you all.”

“Is it a puppy?” Ponyboy asks excitedly, rushing to sit down on the couch. “Not necessarily…” Darry smiles—he has to hide his smirk. Realistically he knows they will all hate this gift. But hey, if he had to spend his entire early-adult life raising them, he gets to embarrass them once or twice.

He hands them all a wrapper box with their names on it. “You guys don’t have to look so scared.” He chuckles, watching Soda be the first to slowly peel back the paper.

“You’re joking.” He says, deadpanned. “You did not actually do this.”

“What is it?” Ponyboy asks, leaning over his brothers shoulders. Soda pulls out the contents of the box and holds it up for all of them to see. A chorus of loud groans fill the room, heads falling back against the cushions.

“You got us matching pajamas?” Two-Bit asks, raising a brow. He’s easily the most on board—beside Darry, of course. Mostly because there aren’t many ways to embarrass him past what he’s already done.

“You cannot make me wear this.” Dallas says simply, crossing his arms. For the options he had—Darry could have chosen much more embarrassing ones.

It was a simple white top with their names embroidered on the right of their chest, and a pair of pajama pants to go with. Soda got red plaid, Two-Bit and Darry got green—he made a point to get Dallas and Steve the ones with little reindeers and red bows to really embarrass them—Johnny got gingerbread and snowmen, Pony got little presents and elves.

“Oh, yes you will.” Darry chuckles darkly. “If you’re staying in my house, you’re wearing those.”

“So suddenly we’re not family anymore, huh?” Dallas grunts. “You’re gonna kick me out over pajamas ?”

“Yep.” Darry smirks—realistically, he won’t. But he knows Dallas will do it—he doesn’t care how much the boy complains. Their mother wanted to do this when they were all little—but each and every child shut the idea down and fought tooth and nail to keep her away. Darry very much remembers almost biting his father over them.

Dallas groans loudly, dropping them in the box. “You’re lucky Buck’s is closed for the night.” He says, tucking it under his arm. “How come me and Dallas got the worst ones?“ Steve complains—he doesn’t even seem completely turned off by the idea, but very much so about the fact that he got the girliest ones—the background of the pattern is a barely noticeable pink.

“Because they bring out your eyes.” Two-Bit jokes, narrowly ducking under the box hurled at his head. Darrel just chuckles, standing. “Don’t worry, I have to wear them too.” He says, holding up his own.

“We don’t have to put them on now , do we?” Ponyboy asks, pointedly not looking at his own.

“Depends,” Darry begins, tucking his box under his arm. “Who wants to run an errand with me?”

The room is silent for a long while, all glancing at each other. Johnny sighs and stands. “I’ll go.” He mutters, like he’s taking on for the team. Pony stands right after. “Me too.” He says quickly.

Darry smiles. “Great.” He says, ruffling their hair as they walk past him to the door. “The rest of you better have those on when we get back.” Darry says evilly, walking off and ignoring all the sudden volunteers.

He makes sure Johnny grabs his gift before they go—Darry wraps both boys up in jackets, scarves, and gloves. It’ll on get colder.

He loads the leftovers in the truck, letting Pony and Johnny hold them still in the backseat. “Where we goin’?” Johnny askes, looking up at him confusedly. “We’ve got a few deliveries to make.” Darry says simply, putting the truck in gear and driving off.

First is the Shepards.

He separates a decent amount onto a seperate plates for them, wrapping it up before handing the few plates of food too the two boys. He walks up the rickety porch and rings the bell.

“Whaddaya want.” Curly answers, throwing the door open. His eyes go wide when he sees who it is. “Oh. Shit, my bad.” He says, not looking at him. “No problem, Curly.” Darry smiles, handing him the plate in his hands. “In case y’all are hungry.”

Curly stares down at the plates with wide eyes before finally taking them, setting them on the couch beside him. “Thanks, I guess.” He says, showing his hands in his jean pockets. Ponyboy rolls his eyes, already walking off to the car. Darrel has to grip the back of his jacket to keep him from running off.

“Tell Tim I said thank you.” Darry says, not seeing the older boy anywhere.

“Yeah man, no problem.” Curly nods.

“Me too.” Johnny mutters, peeking his head out from behind the older Curtis. “To you too. Thanks for the gift, it was very nice.” He says in a teasing tone, a devilish smile on his face. Curly’s whole face goes bright red—so red, in fact, that they can see it even in the fleeting lamp light.

“How did you—“ he begins, cutting himself off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Johnny just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess you don’t want this, then.” He says, waving his own gift in the boy's face. Curly snatches it from his hand, looking down to see his name sharpied on the wrapping paper. “You got me something? You really are a wimp.” Curly sneers, tucking it behind his back anyway—like Johnny would steal it back from him.

Johnny just rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. Merry Christmas.” He says, following Pony and Darry to the truck. Curly doesn’t reply, watching them from the doorway. He only leaves once they’ve pulled away, heading back inside. They can hear him call to Angela from outside.

They head to Buck Merrill’s next. Darry really does hate going to that bar—especially with Johnny and Pony in tow—but he knows Buck is a good guy. He gave Dallas a place to live for most of his teenage years—and often would help Johnny out after a beating if the gang wasn’t around.

Buck and Darry also have an agreement—made after the fire, of course—that if Johnny, Pony, or Soda ever come knocking at his door… Darry will be

called immediately .

He knows Buck isn’t having a party tonight. He usually keeps it closed around family holidays—he claims it’s because of the lack of business, but Darry knows deep down he doesn’t like seeing people ignore their families to come drink at his bar.

He gathers the rest of the food and helps Johnny and Pony carry it up to the door. He knocks loud enough to be heard from anywhere in the house. He can hear Buck’s rushed footsteps, the door being thrown open a moment later.

“What—“ he begins angrily, pausing when he recognizes them. “Oh. Shit, what’s happening now?” He asks, his shoulders dropping. He spares a quizzical glance at Johnny—as if to ask ‘did you kill someone? again?’.

“Nothing to be worried about.” Darry smiles, holding a plate out to him. “There was a lot left over from dinner—I had a feeling you weren’t cooking anything.”

Buck inspects the plate, giving him an odd look. “Uh huh. No other reason?”

“Just wanted to be nice,” Darry begins, giving him a warm smile. “You’re not all alone in there are you?”

“Nawh—My brother’s home.” Buck shrugs. He has a younger brother—only a few years younger than him, Darry’s age. Most of the time he’s out of state—Dallas is the only one who’s ever met him in person, Johnny and Two-Bit have been in the bar while he was… but that’s just about it. “Sure he won’t mind some grub.”

“Good. Merry Christmas, Merril.”

Buck makes an odd face—like how dare Darry say that to him, before groaning. “Give me a second, wait here.” He grumbles, heading back into the bar and shutting the door behind him. By the time he’s back, Johnny and Pony have retreated back to the truck for warmth.

Buck comes back out with a pretty expensive looking bottle of Heineken, handing it off before the two younger boys see. “Nobody here’s gonna be able to afford it anyway.” He says simply, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you. I’m sure the guys will finish this by the end of the night.”

“I’m counting on it.” Buck chuckles. “Oh, and tell Dallas that he left his lighter here. Some broads found it on the floor.” He says, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to him. Darry promises he will and says his goodbyes, Buck just grunts in agreement and shuts the door.

“Darry.” Ponyboy comments when he starts up the truck again. “Are we going to have to put those pajamas on when we get home?“

Darry chuckles. “Of course. It would be unfair if you didn’t.” He says, already picturing the scene of all his boys dolled up like a mall-ad family. “I don’t even mind anymore, at least it’ll be warm.” Johnny mutters, wrapping his arms around himself and wincing just enough to be heard.

The doctor had warned them about this time of year for his scars. Apparently, extreme cold can trigger some kind of nerve pain—it also causes the skin to dry up and crack. Luckily it’s not as bad as it was two years ago, but it will no-doubt hurt for at least a few more years. Not to mention that Johnny already got cold easy before the fire—now it’s bad enough to classify him as hypothermic.

“There should be a few extra blankets in the living room if you need them.” Darry comments idly, trying to focus on the icy road. “Not like Dallas will let you be cold for long anyway.”

Johnny and Ponyboy both giggling in the backseat. As years go on Dallas seems to get less and less scary—the fire turned him so soft that he was almost a different person. It took months for him to stop using kid-gloves around Johnny and Pony.

“We’re home.” Darry says, turning the key and cutting off the car. Both boys run inside immediately, teeth chattering loud enough to sound like tap shoes.

Darry comes inside to already see Dallas worrying over Johnny. “Christ Darry, did you even turn the heat on?” He asks grumpily, checking Johnny's arms to make sure the skin wasn’t cracked bad enough to bleed. Of course it wasn’t, but this was the only thing Dally would ever double check.

“I’m alright Dal.” Johnny says in place of Darry’s retort. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

Darry suddenly remembers the pajamas. Glancing around the room, all of the boys had listened to him. Even Steve and Dallas—Soda was still keeled over laughing.

Johnny and Ponyboy emerge a few moments later dressed as well—Ponyboy’s got his arms crossed and he is very clearly not happy with this outcome.

“You guys are making my Christmas this year, I swear.” Darry smiles—he’d pinch their cheeks if they’d let him. Eh, he’ll probably do it anyway. Darry gets changed quickly—he’s sure that if he waits any longer they won’t let him get photo evidence.

He runs out with his camera in tow, the boys ass grown when they see it. “We didn’t agree to this!” Steve frowns, watching him set it up on the mantle. “I know, I specifically didn’t tell you so you couldn’t say no.” Darry shrugs, fixing the angle one or twice.

He turns the countdown on and quickly gets behind the group. “Smile!” He says, knowing they won’t. The camera flashes and he’s so excited that he’s already rushing back to it.

To their credit, everyone but Steve, Dallas, and Pony are smiling— Soda’s is more of a smolder, because even in family photos he has to be the best looking. “Look at us! Not a single one of us had our eyes closed!” Two-But chuckles, joining the group around Darry to look at it.

They truly were an adorable family. Darry was already planning on printing this photo and the one Two-Bit had taken a hundred times and placing it on every fridge, work locker, and wallet he could find. “If that ever gets to the public, I’m taking care of all witnesses.” Dallas grumbles. “I’ll be your alibi.” Steve adds, unable to look at it any longer.

“Everybody quit your whining! It's a nice photo!” Darry says defensively, setting the camera aside before anyone could try and delete it. “Yeah, Just pretend its not you in the picture. Thats what I’m gonna do.”

“How's that gonna work?” Steve raises a brow annoyedly—unable to hide his genuine annoyance with the boy for a full holiday. “I could have another brother somewhere—I could be a twin.”

“I’d feel bad for that kid.” Steve chuckles, ignoring the empty box that Ponyboy chucks—and misses—at his head.

“Boys, stop fighting or Santa will give you coal for Christmas.” Two-Bit says teasingly, wagging his finger at them. Steve and Pony both groan.

“I don’t get what's wrong with getting coal for Christmas—I can’t even count how many times I was building a fire and prayed for that stuff.” Johnny mutters, shrugging. He glances up to see the whole gang staring at him with very heartbroken looks on their faces. “Dude, That's like… the saddest thing that's ever come out of your mouth.” Soda says—he almost looks like he's gonna cry–dramatically wrapping his arms around him and sighing.

“No—It's not the time to be sad!” Two-Bit exclaims, crossing his arms with a proud look on his face. “Besides, I am very sure I saw Darrel walk in with some booze in hand. Am I right?” He turns to Darrel. He can’t help but roll his eyes. “Yes, Keith. There is a bottle in the kitchen.”

Everyone but Johnny and Pony rush off to go find it. Darrel can hear the cork pop out from the living room—he's sure this won’t end well. “It’s about time you two get to bed anyway.” Darry sighs, looking at the two younger boys.

“What?” Ponyboy frowns. “I’m almost a grown man and you’re giving me a bedtime?!” He asks, exasperated. “Sixteen is almost grown for you?” Darry retorts, unimpressed, raising a brow. Ponyboy opens his mouth and shuts its again, looking at Johnny for support. “I dunno’ what you’re looking at me for.” Johnny laughs. “When I was sixteen I was actively freeloading off of you guys.”

“You only stopped being sixteen like seven months ago.” Ponyboy mutters, rolling his eyes. “And you weren’t ‘freeloading’ you were recovering from third degree burns.”

“Tomato tah-mah-toe.” Johnny shrugs, already making his way towards Pony’s room. “Now come on, If we don’t go to bed now Santa might not come.” He adds teasingly. “Whose side are you on?” Ponyboy mutters with a betrayed look on his face—he eventually does begin to follow him to his room, trying to hide his own yawn.

“We can get you a cup of warm milk if you want.” Dallas calls from the kitchen, drinking right out of the bottle.

“Oh, Fuck off Dallas!” Ponyboy yells back, turning to glare at him.

“Watch your mouth Pony.” Darry scolds immediately—profanity has never been a big issue for him, but ever since he took over he’d been unable to stop. “You aren’t quite old enough to get away with that.”

“Yeah Yeah.” Pony groans, sticking his head out of his room. “Goodnight friends and family…Steve too, I guess.” He says, shutting the door before Steve can defend himself. Darrel can hear the man yell something in response, muffled by the noise of the rest of the gang laughing.

By the time Darrel makes it into the kitchen, the bottle is already half-way gone. “Jesus, You guys have had enough.” Darry says, aiming to take the bottle and fumbling when Two-Bit snatches it away. “You haven’t had enough if you’re noticing!” He chuckles loudly. “Come on, join us.” He says, waving the bottle around like it's a prize.

Darry rolls his eyes, making another attempt to take it and only getting embarrassed again when he misses.

“Come on big guy, take a sip.” He says again like he's trying to entice him. “You know you want to.” The three others quietly cheer him on, pumping their fists up and down along with their chants. Darry’s never been peer pressured successfully—it works even less when he’s around a group that he mostly thinks of as his younger brothers. But either way he finds himself snatching the bottle and guzzling a decent amount.

It's almost midnight when they decide they’ve had enough. Steve and Soda are the first to go—they both head into Soda’s bedroom, saying their goodnights and such. Dallas goes not long after, aiming to crash on the couch. Darry gives him a goodnight hug and forehead kiss as he goes—to which he gets shoved off by a red-faced blonde.

Two-Bit and Darry retreat to his room only ten minutes later. Darry tells him to get comfortable—he doesn’t know if its because he’s feeling extra loving or because he’s a little tipsy, but he decides he can’t go to bed without giving Johnny and Pony a proper good night.

He’s able to get the bedroom door open without either of them stirring. Despite their earlier protest–Both Johnny and Pony are passed out under the covers. Johnny’s got his head on Pony’s chest and it's a miracle he's not suffocating with the cover’s mostly over his face—upon further inspection the two are completely cuddled up together and snoring just loud enough to hear.

Darry stalks to Ponyboy’s side of the bed and leans down— placing a soft kiss right on his hairline. “Goodnight Pone.” He whispers, though he’s a hundred percent sure the boy won’t hear him.

Sure enough, right as he’s leaning over to do the same to Johnny—Ponyboy stirs. “You smell like booze.” Ponyboy whispers, eyes barely able to stay open for more than a second. “Two spilled some on me.” Darry whispers back—quickly giving Johnny his goodnight and standing straight again.

Ponyboy laughs—his voice is slurred from his own tired state, Darry can’t help but think how adorable it is. “Make sure you gimme a copy of that photo.” Ponyboy whispers, wrapping his arms around his friend and snuggling closer, eyes already shut again. “Will do, Goodnight baby.” Darry whispers with a chuckle—he's able to make it to the door without either of the boy’s re-awakening.

“Did you have fun today?” Two-Bit asks as he climbs into bed a moment later. “Very much so.” Darry smiles, placing a kiss on his cheek and getting comfortable under the covers. “Good,” Two whispers, wrapping his arms around the older. “You deserve a good day every once in a while.”

[formosusiniquis]

A Steddie / Buckingham comedy of errors of sorts. It goes like this.

Robin thinks Chrissy Cunningham might be her non platonic soulmate. She's smart, a little goofy, observant, seems like a great listener, and after what the rumor mill is saying was a pretty intense summer has really come into her own. It's a shame she went straight from dating Jason to Eddie Munson.

"She said she's working on herself," Steve claims, more in tune with the gossip than she is, "pretty hypocritical of you to say guys and girls can't be friends."

Which is pretty hypocritical of him when she knows he only cares cause he's already planning his wedding to Chrissy's new boyfriend; he needs Eddie to be single otherwise he's pining away for his perfect co-babysitter for nothing.

But it doesn't matter if they are dating or if they aren't or if Chrissy Cunningham with her perfect strawberry blonde ponytail is her soulmate, because her parents keep trying to set her up with some friend of a friend. She needs to do something quick before disaster strikes.

Melissa and Richard Buckley still know how to tie one on, when the occasion strikes. They're parents now, they've settled down some. Given in to the picket fence life, keep their yard mowed so Gayle Collins down the way stops glaring. They haven't done anything really crazy since that weekend they left Robin with Minerva and went to see what that whole Woodstock thing was about. Now they mostly just stick to getting as high as they can and stargazing on the weekends that Robin is off with Steve, a sweet boy kind of a square but the brownie recipe he gave them makes the best edibles.

Melissa can tell her daughter is lonely, she notices a lot of things about Robin that she won't tell them. Richard has noticed that their dealer Eddie has started bringing a friend along with him. Eddie is a sweet boy too, raised well respects his elders something they care about now that they've become them, he is also obviously and fantastically gay. Like all the parents in Hawkins, Richard and Melissa have heard how Wayne Munson has taken in that Cunningham girl after she came back from her trip out of state. Melissa remembers being a vaguely out of control youth and knows that a trip out of state is code for one of two things, and Chrissy doesn't look like she's ever been pregnant. Chrissy seems like a girl who might like their daughter.

Steve would die before he denies Robin just about anything. She is the platonic love of his life, they nearly died together, they've come out together. He's pretty sure as long as he has Robin and his kids he'd be content for the rest of his life, romance be damned.

A sentiment Robin seems to agree with since she wants him to fake being her boyfriend. Obviously, he says yes. Steve is a good boyfriend, he's always been a good boyfriend. He's attentive, great with parents, knows when to keep the pda to a minimum but also knows when to put on a show. He used to be pretty sure that Mr. and Mrs. Buckley liked him. So he's not really sure why they pulled him aside before movie night.

"Your parents hate me."

"There isn't a parent in Hawkins who hates you."

"You mom just asked me if I didn't think it might be better if I found someone more suited to me."

"What does that even mean?"

"It's basically mom code for I think your the worst person my daughter could have brought home. If I had the choice I'd kill you so why don't you do us both a favor and fuck off."

"I don't think that's right."

"Rob, I love you but conversational nuance isn't exactly your thing."

Eddie likes his job. Sure it's technically not honest work, but who knows maybe down the line they'll legalize it. He's getting in on the ground floor, an entrepreneur. Hawkins is surprisingly pro-weed and Eddie is just fine sticking to that after this summer. His favorite customers are the old folks. Like Miss Brenda at the library or the Buckleys. He always brings Chrissy along when he goes out these days, she feels weird staying in the trailer by herself and he likes having her nearby. She puts people at ease.

Except the Buckleys, who seem strangely obsessed with her. They ask her pointed questions about Dorothy, and surely they mean an actual Dorothy, surely the nice middle aged couple aren't trying to figure out if Chrissy is queer. Sure he got some vibes off of Buckley the younger, but that was before she started dating the love of his life. Now he's starting to think his whole gaydar has gone to shit.

Chrissy, a baby gay who has just broken free of the nastiest case of comp het Eddie has ever seen, answer honestly. She doesn't know a Dorothy, is that one of Robin's band friends? How is Robin, she is so sweet. Chrissy just wishes she had more time in the day so they could see each other more. She's dating Steve right, they make just the cutest couple, don't they think?

Eddie can tell Melissa doesn't. A surprise when even Wayne likes Steve Harrington, thinks he's the bees knees. Loaned him a screwdriver or some shit when the guy was over fixing something at the Mayfield place. She smiles though and agrees that Steve is quite sweet, in a tone that Eddie is far more used to hearing used when people are talking about him than about Steve Harrington. He blinks and the next thing he knows Chrissy is agreeing for them both that dinner on Friday sounds lovely; she'll bring a dessert.

Like she's ever baked in her life.

Chrissy Cunningham has had a rough couple of months, but she's settled now. Sure, she had a breakdown so bad in Eddie's trailer that she ended up having to get professional help; but she got that help and a new support system for herself. Really, the only way life could be much better is if she were dating Robin Buckley.

Eddie likes to tease her, calls her a baby gay like she's a wobbly legged deer still figuring things out. She's had eyes on Robin since the fifth grade, when she got her hair cut short to her shoulders the first time and her teeth still had a gap before her braces went on. Steve is a great guy, she's seen him with the group of freshmen that follow him around like ducklings; she's also watching him now and he's spent most of dinner making moon eyes at Eddie instead of his girlfriend.

She doesn't understand how, Robin is a vision. Full of spit and vinegar, she is firecracker mad glaring at her parents across the table. "You really brought him here? I'm dating Steve, can you not accept that?"

A lot happens at once, Chrissy isn't entirely sure what is going on but it feels a lot like a pot boiling over, something left too long unattended.

"We aren't trying to set you up with our dealer," Mr. Buckley said. "You're not exactly his type."

"Chrissy is such a nice girl." Mrs. Buckley tries.

"You said you stopped that," Steve to Eddie, a lethal pout on his lips and downturned eyes.

"Well, I stopped with the kids," Eddie tries, "I gotta pay the bills somehow, sweetheart."

"Chrissy?" If Robin was a vision in her sharp eyed rage, she's radiant in her pink cheeked surprise.

Once the shock, surprise, and comedy wear off Chrissy thinks there will be tears. Robin's parents seem nice. They seem like the kind of parents you confide in and who hold you tight. She thinks about her mom doing something thoughtful, thinks of her quietly accepting who she is and who she loves; and when she can't do that she thinks of Wayne and Eddie and knows she'd cry once they were alone and the theater of it all was over. So she thinks she might need to make the most of her moment while it's there. "I don't want to be a homewrecker," she jokes, something she's picked up from Eddie, "but I think your boyfriend has his eyes other places."

"Boyfriend, what boyfriend?"

"They're showing Clue at The Hawk this weekend, if you want to go with me?"

Robin can't nod her head fast enough.

"Stevie, I noticed you find yourself newly single," Eddie says, sorrow so fake he should rethink his decision to go within 10 feet of the drama department. "If you could bear it, would you want to crash their date make it a double?"

Steve agrees so fast a bit of hair escapes his coif, it falls in a curl at his forehead.

Robin's parents both seem pleased, pleasant smiles that chrissy is becoming more accustomed to seeing on adults now that she resides in the Munson place. "They'll be smug about this forever," Robin confides. Her smile betrays her lack of real dismay.

Chrissy got her girl and her best friend got his boy, so she thinks it's all's well that ends well.

[toby-du-coeur]

incomplete list of ways movie!newt could've survived, because

im rewatching tdc and i honestly can't take it and am gonna chew through my own arm in his memory

NEWT DOESN'T TURN

mary makes some extra serum for brenda for the road, & so they have it when newt is infected

since lawrence is gonna sacrifice himself anyway, gally gets the remainder of his serum from him in exchange for breaking into wckd, buying newt time

instead of getting drunk and wandering the halls she is IN CHARGE OF, ava kills janson or does anything else to thwart him & help the kids

there's some serum they're currently running tests on that's outside the vault, and they take a detour sometime in the minho-rescue to get some

gally deep enraged breaths gally takes the fucking serum with him, when he runs from brenda & the kids to go bring thominewt back

thomas kisses him and they cuddle a lot during all the shenanigans. this makes newt less stressed, buying time 😊😊😊

or. hear me out. xanax

during the battle, wckd captures thominewtally and takes them to teresa and ava, who make the serum and cure newt. then they break out

they continue talking to brenda through the walkie-talkie, and when the berg flies over them, they drop down a hook and pick the boys up. since we all know wckd has stormtrooper aim, they make it. and then maybe they pick up teresa from some rooftop

IF NEWT TURNS

thomas [sometime during wckd training, runner training, or vince] has learnt the fireman's carry and is able to carry newt faster and also like.. just let him gnaw on him or whatever if he starts to turn, or knock him out real quick

thomas hears teresa say 'it's your blood,' immediately cuts himself and newt open and does some kind of blood brothers thing, which.. at least shocks newt's system enough that the serum arrives. and then thomas is lowkey bleeding out but newt is back to sanity & sarcasm enough to finish things off

thomas knocks newt out with the gun or like shoots him in the leg, buying time

they've picked up one of those stun serum thingies like janson uses, and use it on newt

thomas sticks the serum in newt in desperation and rage after he's just been knifed, bella cullen style {with plenty of those squishy stabby noises like in breaking dawn} and he comes back to life

[and after that, as teresa's done her same speech over the intercom, newt is reasonable with him so they get thomas' sweet sweet cure blood as well]

they get some serum to newt and escape to the safe haven. teresa and that bit of serum from the napkin survive. newt stays v e r y c a l m and slowly deteriorates for months, living on the bag of serum and their half-botched attempts to make more. and then teresa shows up 😘

teresa doesn't survive, but thomas keeps newt alive with the extra serum until he manages to make a working cure out of sheer grit and bloodloss and memories of wckd, because he loves newt to the point of invention

and the one that i half-genuinely see in the canon film:

the knife misses his heart. {they LITERALLY do not pull the knife out, check for a heartbeat or touch him in any way, it's insane}. the thomas-blood-knife + newt's undying love [*] resurrect him. he battles his way to the safe haven and they can give him that vial of the cure that thomas is left just holding like a loose end <3

[*plus some faint multidimensional influence of the dashner canon that newt apparently IS the cure, which.. afaik how immunity/cure works is that your body produces enzymes that fight it off FOR YOU and therefore can be transferred to fight it off for others.. so what kinda shuck sense does t h a t make]

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 31/34 - home

[Read on AO3]

Their caseworker stops by in the morning to get their signatures on some paperwork and lays out the timeline for getting the adoption finalized in the coming months. For all intents and purposes, though, Madeline is theirs, and they're free to take her home. The birth mother's signature is there in black ink, signing over her parental rights to them. The sight of it brings tears to their eyes. 

They won't soon forget what that young woman has done for them.

After one last checkup with the doctor, they pack up the room and get ready to leave. Scully dresses Maddie in a bright blue flower-patterned shirt with matching bloomers, a headband, and socks to keep her feet warm.

Once she's snug in her baby carrier, they lay a fuzzy pink blanket over her legs to keep her cozy on the trek out to the car. Mulder proudly lifts the carrier with one arm, and with the other, he reaches for Scully’s hand. There may be three of them now, but he hasn't forgotten who he came in here with. 

Brenda walks out with them, and they bid farewell to the nurses that had looked after them during their stay. After this, they'll be on their own, just the three of them.

Before they reach the exit, Mulder stops suddenly, standing in the middle of the floor and looking down at Maddie. There’s something that has been bugging him, something left undone that just doesn't feel right. He whispers something to Scully, and then asks the caseworker a question.

He knows it wasn't a part of the agreed upon hospital plan, as set out by the birth mother, but can he really just walk out that door without thanking her? Without telling her how much this means to them?

“Is Krista still here?” he asks. “I know she said she'd prefer to keep to herself, but—”

“I believe she’s waiting to be discharged as we speak,” Brenda answers. “I can call and ask if she's open to a visit from you all, if you’d like.”

“Please,” Mulder says, and Scully nods in agreement.

Brenda steps away to make her call, returning a moment later with a smiling face.

“She said she’d be happy to see you,” she announces. “I can show you the way, if you're ready.”

Mulder bites his lip in thought.

“Give me a couple minutes,” he says, handing off the baby carrier to Scully. “I'll be right back.”

-.-.-

The room where Krista has been staying after delivery is in a different hallway than Mulder and Scully had been in. When he returns, bearing a nice bouquet of flowers and some chocolates from the gift shop, Brenda beams at them.

“This feels insufficient,” he says, shrugging self-consciously at his gifts.

The woman puts a comforting hand on his arm, shaking her head. “I'm sure she will appreciate it,” she assures him kindly.

She gives them one last glance to make sure they're ready, and then knocks on the door.

“You can come in,” a voice calls from inside. Without further ado, Brenda pushes the door open and pokes her head through the doorway.

“Got some visitors for you,” she says cheerily, before looking back at them and nodding for them to enter. 

Krista is seated on the edge of her bed, wearing comfortable leggings and a Georgetown sweatshirt. She looks well, if a little nervous.

“Hi,” she says, smiling a little shyly.

“Hi,” Mulder echoes, entering the room with Scully right beside him. “These are for you,” he says, holding out the flowers for her, which she accepts with a smile.

“Oh, thank you,” she says. “You guys didn't have to do that.”

“We're the ones who should be thanking you,” Scully says, tears pricking at her eyes. I can't tell you how happy you've made us. This– This is a debt we'll never be able to repay.”

Mulder nods in agreement, returning to Scully’s side and placing a steadying hand on her lower back.

“We're going to do everything we can to give her the best life possible. I promise,” he says. “I just… wanted you to know that.”

Krista nods, and it's remarkable how at peace she seems, given the circumstances. Mulder can’t imagine being in her position.

“Can I ask—” Scully starts, adjusting her hold on the carrier nervously. “I mean, if you don’t mind sharing, can I ask why you chose us?”

Krista breathes out a laugh, her eyes settling on the tile floor. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she says, amusement lacing her voice.

Mulder fights back a smile, glancing down at Scully with raised eyebrows.

“You might be surprised,” Scully says, turning her attention back to the woman who had given them a daughter.

Krista looks at them, her expression clear and honest and hopeful. She shrugs.

“She’s… meant to be yours,” she states simply, as if it were the most basic truth known to humankind. “I can’t explain it, but I just– I know you were meant to be her parents. I knew it from the moment I met you.”

Beside him, Scully sucks in a breath, and he feels his throat constrict with the swell of emotion.

“I had this feeling, when I found out I was pregnant, that someone else needed her. And… it was you.” She shakes her head, as if she can’t even understand it herself. “Do you believe in that kind of thing, Mr. Mulder? Dana?”

He looks down at the sleeping baby in the car seat, dressed in one of the first outfits they bought for her when they went out shopping.

“Yeah,” he says quietly, settling a hand on Scully’s shoulder. “Yeah, we do.”

Krista nods again and smiles, his words confirming what she had hoped.

They’re interrupted a moment later by a nurse stopping by with the last of the discharge paperwork, and they wait while Krista speaks with her. She’s probably anxious to get home. No one likes sleeping in a hospital several nights in a row.

When they’re alone again, Scully steps forward.

“Did you want to hold her?” she asks boldly, concealing a worried tremor in her voice. It’s the right thing to do, he knows, and he hopes someone would do the same for them if their positions were switched. But with the adoption still not finalized, there’s always that one seed of doubt that tells them she could still change her mind.

“We’ve already said our goodbyes,” Krista says with a bittersweet smile. “Besides, I don’t want to wake her.” Still, she does get up to peek down at her in her car seat, gently running a finger over the back of the baby’s tiny, bunched up hand. “What did you name her?”

Mulder clears his throat, blinking back the tears that have unexpectedly sprung up.

“Madeline,” he answers.

“Hm,” Krista laughs, her cheeks pulling back in amusement as she drinks in the sight of the baby she bore. “That was my grandmother’s name.”

If they needed any other sign that this was meant to be, that was it. It seems Krista feels the same way too.

“Well, I guess this is it,” she says, cupping the top of the baby’s head and softly smoothing over her wisps of dark hair with her thumb.

Scully brushes back an escaped tear from her eye. “Do you have a ride home?” she asks.

Krista stands and makes her way back to her bed, perching on the edge like she had been when they arrived.

“My best friend has been here with me, she’s driving me back,” she answers.

He’s relieved she has someone here with her. Scully had offered her support if she needed it, but Krista is a fiercely independent young woman, not unlike another person he knows. She’d chosen to keep things private, and they were respectful of that choice.

Still, it’s nice to get a moment with her before they part ways.

“If you ever need anything… Anything at all—” Mulder starts.

“You know where to reach us,” Scully finishes.

Krista inclines her head, a grateful smile passing over her lips.

“Thank you,” she says. “You guys will be wonderful parents, I can tell.”

-.-.-

The drive back to D.C. is one of the most stressful of his life. He white-knuckles the wheel like his life depends on it, resisting the urge to check the rear view mirror every few minutes to make sure Maddie is doing okay. Scully sits in the backseat with her just in case she's needed, and though Mulder misses his copilot, he's glad Maddie has someone keeping her company back there.

It's surreal, the walk up to their apartment. This is where their journey into parenthood will really begin. Late night feedings and diaper changes, cuddling on the couch; Eventually, she'll be making messes while eating squishy baby food in the kitchen and maybe even learning to crawl. All of it within these walls that he's thought of as home, in some capacity, for far longer than he's lived here.

His home is wherever Scully is. His home has been a thousand different motels across the United States. His home has been in the middle of the woods while being hunted by mothmen in Florida. His home had been hospital rooms, rental cars, run-down diners, and any number of airport seating areas over the years.

His home has been a dark and dusty basement, feathered with little knick knacks and article clippings that he thought would make him feel fulfilled. In reality, it wasn't until the day she walked in the door that the office ever felt like home. The difference was like night and day.

Now Scully opens the door to their apartment, and they're welcomed not by cheesy posters and doctored images of UFOs, but by a huge welcome home banner strung up on the wall on the far side of the room. Baskets of gifts, apparently from Maggie Scully's church group, sit by the fireplace, and a hand-knit baby blanket drapes across the back cushion of the sofa.

Scully’s eyes fill with tears as she takes in the sight. Mulder brings the baby carrier over to the kitchen table, setting it down so that he can let Madeline out. She stretches her back into an arch, squeezing her eyes shut in protest against being woken up from her nap. He smiles as he lifts her to his shoulder, holding her warm little body close and patting her gently in a comforting rhythm.

“Hey Scully, looks like someone loaded the fridge too,” he says, nodding toward a sticky note that he spies tacked to the refrigerator where it hadn't been before. Sure enough, it’s filled to the brim with ready-made meals for them. Those church ladies work fast. “Good to be home, huh?” he asks, just as Scully turns away from inspecting the freezer.

“I still have a hard time believing this is our life,” she says, finding her voice again. “Does it ever feel like a dream to you? Like you’re watching someone else’s life and not your own?”

He does know what she means. He’s felt it in little moments throughout their partnership, even from the beginning. He’ll never forget the way she’d shown him such loyalty, vowing that she’d only ever put herself on the line for him. He’d never known that level of trust and commitment before, yet she offered it so freely. It had stunned him into momentary silence, to hear it declared so plainly.

She’s his best friend. And—more than that—he is hers. That’s what had been truly unbelievable to him. He was never anyone’s first choice. Not until she came along. And now she has chosen him for something else, too. For a more lasting relationship. A decision that guarantees their lives will be intertwined for the foreseeable future.

He has to pinch himself to remind himself that it’s real. Evidently, she does too.

For once in their seven years together, they have found a truth that asks very little of them. It does not demand penance, or further suffering. Nor does it require some great sacrifice or heartbreak.

All this truth asks is that they let go. Surrender to it. Stop fighting. Stop running.

Because the truth they’ve found is love, and though it may have taken a while to come to terms with it, there’s no question in his mind that that’s what it is. All this time, everything had pointed him toward it, he’d only pushed it away. He has willfully ignored what was right in front of him, believing that it couldn’t possibly be the answer. He wasn’t worthy. She deserved more. There had to be something else, some other truth that would save him, that made all the suffering worth it.

But in the end, it was her. She is the truth that was sent to save him. This life they’ve begun together—that’s what he had been searching for all along. Not a replacement for the family he’d lost, but a chance to have one of his own. To build one quite literally from the ground up.

“This is our life, Scully,” he says to her, standing close to her in the middle of the kitchen. “I want to believe.”

~~~

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[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter fourteen — a rom-com happy ending

WORD COUNT — 2,841

WARNINGS — pure fluff, weddings

NOTES — i can't believe it's already over :( well, not really bc this series will always live in my head, way into their college years, but for now this is the end <3

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Ever since your Uncle Mark started staying in the guest room and wedding prep picked up even more, your house was never quiet. Between final food tastings, organizing the tables and stationary, plus the horrendous amount of extra schoolwork you were dealing with due to a new semester starting up, life never slowed down. 

Things at school got better, so long as you ignored Newt in any way, and focused on your college applications and spending time with Brenda. Plus, your uncle Mark made sure to spend all his extra time with you, since you hadn’t seen him in two years. 

He and Maggie’s brothers got along well, and made the house extra vibrant as everyone got to know one another over game nights and dinners. The very first night you’d met them — Maggie’s brothers, George and Dean — they embraced you lovingly, claiming that Maggie had always wanted a daughter. 

Valentine’s Day started with a bright dawn and a calm air, and you could tell even with the cold that it was a beautiful day for a wedding. The day started early, at around 5am, with Maggie shaking you awake, offering you a toasted waffle and travel mug of coffee. The house was void of men and instead filled with the women of the bridal party, all running around and getting ready in different parts of the house in order to have things done on time. 

Everyone had their dresses in different places, and you and a woman named Sarah did each other’s makeup in your bedroom by the desk before taking turns getting dressed and finding your purses, accessories, and proper coats. 

Maggie was already on her way to the church in just her makeup by the time everyone was ready, leaving you to lock up the house and pile into one of the three cars occupying the driveway. You texted with Brenda, Harriet, and Sonya on the car ride, talking about the reception happening later on. 

You and Thomas were allowed to bring your friends to the reception (with Brenda and Jorge being the exception, as they were invited to the ceremony), something that your parents agreed upon not long after they told you about the proposal. Since the bonfire, though, the group was shattered, and you really only talked to the girls for now. Thomas was inviting everyone else who wanted to come, though, so you’d see everyone there, anyway. 

One thing you did notice, through the bustle and stress of the wedding and finals, was that your friends had been acting odd, to say the least. Thomas was the same, but every one of your friends were exchanging an unsettling amount of smiles and glances — not just the girls, but Gally and Minho, too. You’d even asked them about it one day, but they all refused to give you an answer. 

You shook the thoughts from your head and texted the girls to update them on where you were. They were all excited for the wedding, and you were, too. Everything about this day had felt spectacular so far, and you couldn’t wait to actually see Maggie and your dad get married. 

The church was empty for now, but you and the girls all filed into the bridal suite, where Maggie sat, pinning up her hair into the most elegant style you’d seen. Since her hair was neck length and wavy, it was difficult to get her hair into a style that looked nice. However, she managed to take some strands from the front to frame her face, while still having the majority of the upper half of her hair pinned back with pearl beaded pins, her waves still flowing free. 

You almost cried at how wonderful she looked, before realizing it was up to you and two other bridesmaids to help her into her dress. 

If you hadn’t been emotional before, you definitely were now. 

Maggie looked like she’d stepped right out of a fairytale. Her bodice and sleeves were mesh, patterned with intricate lace, her skirt made of silk with a slight volume to it and lots of movement. The lace pattern bled into the skirt, blending well with the silk and forming it into a cohesive piece. 

Everyone’s compliments overlapped as you took her hands in yours, the both of you smiling widely at one another. 

With a gentle squeeze of your hands, and a knock on the door from her brothers, ready to walk her down the aisle, Maggie sighed. “Well, ladies, I think it’s just about time I got married, don’t you think?”

The ceremony was, to say the least, perfect. 

Out of the entire bridal party, you were the last to walk down the aisle, with Chuck and Thomas on either arm, all three of you beaming like sunshine. 

Your dad, along with everyone in the church, welled with tears upon Maggie’s entrance, both  of her brothers on her arm. Everything went without a hitch, and you must have ran through a pack or two of pocket kleenex. You’d never be able to replicate the joy in your heart when your dad finally called Maggie his wife. 

To no one’s surprise, the reception started strong and continued to stay that way. The hall looked absolutely amazing, with round tables and white wicker chairs, beautiful flower centerpieces. In the few-hour long break between the ceremony and the reception, Sonya, Harriet, and Brenda’s attitudes have kicked up in suspicion, but all things considered, you simply brushed it off. You had a lot more to worry about today than their behavior, and one of those things was your speech. 

All of your friends sat at a table near the front, watching your uncle wrap up his speech. Thomas and Chuck were going to do one as the best men, but didn’t quite know what to say, so they passed that duty onto Mark. One of Maggie’s friends offered to do the same for you, but you had already started with an idea, and this was too important to pass off. 

With shaking hands and messily written index cards, you stepped up to the microphone next to your parents table, smiling at the people around you. You kept your eyes on Maggie and your dad, though, for the most part. 

Clearing your throat, you leaned into the mic and began your speech. “I know that there’s a lot of people here who might not exactly know who I am, but I’m very glad to be here to share this day with all of you. I’m the daughter of the groom, and my name is Y/n. I want to start by congratulating my dad and Maggie, who I can say, deep in my heart, I know were meant to be together. Sure, it took them a while, but I guess finding ‘The One’ takes time, right?” You took a deep breath, adjusting the cards in your hands, finding that you didn’t need them any more. “I’ve only known Maggie for about four years, but she’s one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. I’ll forever be grateful for all of the things she’s helped me and my dad through, and for always being there. Maggie, you and your boys have changed everything in our lives, and there won’t be a day that I won’t be thankful for that. You showed my dad how to love again, and you didn’t hesitate for a second to share that love with me, too.” 

You were only looking at Maggie, now, eyes wet with tears and a smile stretching your face. “And it’s because of that love and dedication that I am proud to be here today, with all our friends and family, and be able to call you my mom.” 

You watched the emotions change on your parents faces and laughed lightly. “I can only finish this off by saying that I hope that everything the both of you want out of life comes to you, and to tell you that I love you both to the moon and back.” 

Quietly, you stepped away from the microphone and walked over to an already standing Maggie, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“I love you so much, honey,” she whispered, kissing the side of your head. 

You squeezed her tight, tucking your face into her neck. “I love you, too, mom.”

After you let go and sat down, you glanced over at your dad to find him trying his best to hide his tears. He hadn’t been doing so well, considering you could see the shine of tears building on his waterline. 

Dinner and cake came after the speeches finished, both of which were delicious — you made a mental note to personally tell Jorge how good the cake was — and made you heavily consider taking seconds, despite knowing you would pay for it later with a stomach ache. 

Soon enough, the dance floor filled with people, and you searched out your friends to spend more time with them. 

You found them easily, the seven of them clumped into one corner of the room, just by the hall’s main entrance. They greeted you warmly, talking over one another about the food and the speeches. You told them everything about your day so far, and how proud and elated you were that the wedding finally happened. It was only when you were getting into how hectic things had been at the house that Gally’s phone rang, and suddenly the whole group went quiet. 

He stepped away, answering the phone and nodding like the person on the other line could see him. Everyone was looking at him, cheeky smiles on their faces as Gally came back, tucking his phone back into the pocket of his slacks. 

“What was that all about?” You asked him. 

Gally smiled at you, something he didn’t do all that often, a playful gleam in his eye. “Wanna go for a drive?”

“Why?” Your brows cinched as you dragged out your question, glancing between everyone as a slight chill ran up your spine. 

“He’s got a surprise for you, that’s why.” Brenda nudged you. “Just go, I promise it’ll be worth it.” 

You looked between everyone wearily before following Gally out to his car, not bothering to grab your coat. Your heart was racing with every step, the anticipation and confusion building in your head. Brenda said it was worth the trip, but you just didn’t know what was going on. Not to mention everyone’s odd behavior…

After driving around for a few minutes, Gally pulled into the school parking lot. A light flurry of snow had begun to fall, dusting the grass and pavement, and slightly impairing your vision as you looked around from the passenger’s seat. “Gally, why are we at the school?”

The boy looked up from his phone with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

Not a moment after he finished his sentence, your phone pinged from your dress pocket. Your heart stopped when you pulled it out, reading the new message in your notifications. ‘Come to the willow tree’

It was from Newt.

You looked up at Gally, who’s smile widened as he nodded toward the field. 

“He’s waiting for you,” Gally said, and you had to remember how to breathe. 

With one final, reassuring nod, you exited the car, bracing against the cold as you raced to the willow tree. Through the flurries, you made out Newt’s figure by the tree, and stopped yourself from running any further. 

Once you were able to move your legs again, you took it slower, walking through the thin layer of accumulating snow, picking up your dress to make it less likely for you to trip. With every step, you could make out Newt’s figure a little clearly, and it made the ache in your chest grow larger. 

You came to a stop under the tree’s canopy of dead leaves, providing some protection from the snow. Newt was wearing a black suit, and you couldn’t deny how great he looked in it. He was still staring at his shoes and picking at his fingernail when you stopped walking, almost as though he hadn’t heard you approaching him. 

Gripping the sides of your dress, you found the courage to speak up. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again.” 

Newt looked up from his shoes with a smile. “I lied.” 

“But that’s what you said, isn’t it? On Christmas. When you slammed the door in my face.” 

“I know what I said, and I’m sorry,” Newt sighed, stepping a bit closer. “I was a prick for saying it, too. I never should’ve done what I did, you didn’t deserve it.” He took a breath, running a hand through his hair and tucking a hand into one of his pockets. “Ever since the party, Sonya’s been telling me every day how upset you were. Hell, everyone was, and it’s been driving me mad ever since, because I hurt you, and I’ve never wanted to do that.” 

Teary-eyed, you opened your mouth to speak, but Newt continued. 

“I don’t care what Tommy thinks about us being together anymore. But I want us to be together. Hell, the only thing that kept me quiet about how I felt for so long — that stopped me from asking you out when we hung out together on our own for the first time — was how I thought he would react, or if he would disapprove of it. But I don’t care anymore. I love you, Y/n. More than anything. Staying away from you for so long has been killing me, and I can’t stand it anymore.” He stepped closer again, leaving only a few inches of space between you. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to follow you outside when you came to Mickey’s with Brenda. To apologize for what I said, for leaving you that night. To—” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “—to kiss you bloody senseless.” 

You stared up at the boy before you, the one you never thought would talk to you again, in awe of his words. After the bonfire, you never believed that Newt would say something like that to you, let alone plan something as intimate as this was. You blinked away tears for the fourth time that day and realized there was only one thing you could say at the moment. 

“So do it. Kiss me.” 

Newt closed the distance between your bodies, pulling you into him by the waist and pressing his lips to yours. Elation filled every inch of your body as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him as close as you were able, pouring all your love into the kiss. You felt one of Newt’s hands snake up your neck, palm splayed over your jaw as he tried in vain to pull you closer into his body. 

You wished you didn’t need air to breathe when you were forced to pull back, lipstick smeared on Newt’s swollen lips, and likely on your own, as well. But you still had one question to ask. 

“Why now?” You asked, smoothing the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I mean, after everything, why now? You spent two months pretending to hate me, so what changed?”

“The jacket.” Newt told you. “Sonya practically forced it into my hands after you left, and then she yelled at me for half an hour about how big of an idiot I was being, and how wrong it was for me to keep treating you the way I had been. After that… I sat on my bed for a while, holding the jacket and thinking about how right she was. About how much I missed you. After that, I knew I had to do something, so…” 

“So you planned all this?” You said, a coy smile spreading on your lips. “Just for me?”

Newt smiled wide, laughter bubbling in his throat. “Just for you, darling.” The nickname made your heart skip a beat, and your smile widened. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. You  saw what I did for you in New York. Making elaborate plans to see you happy isn’t anything new.”

Without another word, you pulled his head down to kiss him again. You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips as you kissed Newt, reveling in how amazing it felt to finally be able to kiss him. Just as you were pulling away, a thought crossed your mind. “Wait. What about Thomas? And our friends?”

“Did you not hear a word I just said?” Newt laughed. “I don’t give a damn what Tommy thinks. I only care about you. And our friends have been in on it for the past week, love.” 

You smiled bright at the boy holding you, pulling him back into another searing kiss. 

Under the canopy of the willow tree, on the greatest day of your life so far, you got your movie-screen happy ending; and everything that happened to get it was entirely worth it.

series taglist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)