#Like I HATE mac n cheese for the most part but I tried this shit and I could've cried really

[starscreamingg]

Reheating literally the best mac n cheese I've ever had in my life in the oven due to sudden microwave explosion

[rip-quizilla]

Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Thanksgiving, idiots in love, and unwelcome encounters in the parking lot.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Content Warning! This chapter contains sexual harassment (grabbing at clothes, derogatory name calling).

Thank you so much @hellfire--cult for the adorable Converse divider🥹

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 6

Thanksgiving Day, 1983

Eddie had a lot of things to worry about today, but right now he was most worried about whether or not the mac & cheese he’d slaved over all morning would taste like shit. 

His sweaty hands clutched the dish towel-wrapped baking dish for dear life and mentally rolled through all of the ingredients he had read on that clipping from the Southern Living magazine he’d grabbed from the grocery store. It wasn’t as if he’d never cooked before- he could make a mean grilled cheese, and if something came in a box he hadn’t found a way to fuck it up yet. This time, however, he’d been a little out of his element. 

Wayne had been excited to finally have a use for the casserole dish that had been sitting in a cabinet unused for so long that Eddie hadn’t even known it existed. Currently, he sat relaxed in the drivers’ seat of his pickup smiling smug as hell even though Eddie had assured him multiple times that he was not about to meet Eddie’s girlfriend… just a friend. 

No matter how much Eddie tried to hammer that point into Wayne’s skull, however, he still smiled that stupid knowing grin every time your name came up in conversation, as if he knew something Eddie didn’t. 

“You seem nervous.” Wayne commented, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead as he lazily turned the truck into your neighborhood. 

Eddie glared at the tin foil topped dish in his lap. “Well, I’ve never made this recipe before, I keep picturing everyone taking a bite and immediately spitting it into their napkins.”

Wayne snorted, shaking his head softly and guiding the steering wheel with one hand. “Son, it’s pasta and cheese. Pretty hard to mess that up too bad.” 

“Yeah, well…” Eddie harrumphed. “I’m sure I found a way somehow.”

Wayne smiled softly at his nephew’s smitten nerves, parking the pickup with a jerky stop at the curb of your house. “505, right? This is the one?”

“Yeah.” 

Watching smugly as Eddie stared out the window at your house, Wayne waited about four seconds before he asked, “Are you gonna get out of the car today, or…?”

Cue the sound of the car door opening and Eddie grumbling a sassy muttered retort of I’m going old man, calm down, or something along those lines. Wayne pretended not to catch it. 

You opened the door before Wayne and Eddie could even get to the door, and when Eddie’s eyes landed on you? His uncle could just tell. The smile that exploded on his nephew’s face was all it took.

“Oh here, let me take that-”

“No, no, it’s fine Ace, I got it.” Eddie reassured you, swooping the casserole dish away from your eager hands. He nodded in Wayne’s direction, directing you to do the same as he introduced the only family member of his that you’d heard of at all in your time as friends. “This is my Uncle Wayne.” 

Your eyes shone, welcoming and warm, and Wayne understood in an instant how you’d had such an effect on Eddie in less than a year. Since he’d started spending time with you, Eddie Munson had become the kind of young man who did his homework without being asked. He’d even gotten a job at the mall of all places and gave a portion of his earnings to his uncle to help with living expenses. 

None of the things Wayne had always loved about Eddie had gone away- the changes he’d seen in his nephew were all additions to a personality that he’d always known would take him far in life if he could just surround himself with those who brought out the best in him. People who saw that spark of Munson Magic and knew how to fan it.

Wayne could now confirm that you were one of those people.

He took your hand in his weathered and wrinkled one, pouring his approval of you into a firm and fatherly handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, young lady.” He gestured to Eddie with a conspiratorial nod. “Nice to put a face to the name, all he does is talk about you.”

“Brrrrr, it’s cold out here!” Eddie interrupted his uncle with a hand on your back to steer you away from Wayne and into the house. “Are you cold? You look cold, we don’t need to stand out here yapping when you’re cold.” 

You smiled, following Eddie’s lead but tossing a look over your shoulder at Wayne like it was a shared secret. 

Eddie had already met your parents, so greetings were warm and familiar once the three of you had reached the foyer. Wayne was introduced to both your mom and dad before your mom noticed Eddie had brought an offering for the table.

“Edward Munson, if I’m about to find out you’re not only a shoe designer but also a cook, I might just have to extend a standing invitation for all future holidays!”

“Shoe designer?” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 

You chuckled, pointing your foot out for him to see your white (now turned a bit duller from wearing them every day) Chuck Taylors, completely covered in idle drawings from Eddie’s inability to sit still. 

Wayne gawked at the artwork on your shoes; he’d always known that Eddie was talented, but this was the first time in a long time that Wayne had really stopped and looked at his nephew’s art. The detail, the use of space and composition- it was clear that Eddie knew not only how to draw, but he had an eye for how to make his art look like it belonged on its canvas. Even otherworldly monsters- sea creatures, dragons, demonic ghouls and ghostly images- looked at home on your well-loved high tops. 

“You drew all this, Ed?”

Eddie smiled shyly, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Ah, they’re just doodles. This one over here figured out I pay better attention in class when I’m doing something with my hands. Helps me listen better.” Finally, his trademark grin reappeared, shyness replaced with snark. “Now I’m the one helping her in class.”

“All the times I’ve had to kick you so you don’t fall asleep in O’Donnell’s beg to differ.” You replied, rolling your eyes at him. This brought a good-natured ripple of laughter from everyone in the room. You all felt it- the ease with which familiarity settled in the air amongst you. Eddie felt it most of all, since he wasn’t quite accustomed to the particular familial feel of it. 

He might have been, once. But it’s been a while. 

A second later and your mom had whisked Eddie into the kitchen to set his dish down on a trivet and sent him into the living room with a steaming cup of wassail in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other.

“There was enough food in there to feed an army,” Eddie said, bemused as he sat down next to you on the couch. “Does she know there are only five of us?” 

You toed off your shoes and let them fall to the ground before crossing your legs up on the green ottoman, fuzzied soft with wear from years of love. You leaned closer to Eddie, eyes fixed on his plate of goodies as you began to pick pieces of fruit and cheese for yourself. 

“Mom grew up with a big family,” you said, popping a juicy red grape into your mouth. “All the family recipes make enough for six at least. She could probably cut the recipes in half… but I think cooking all this food reminds her of home.” you smiled tenderly and shrugged. “We usually freeze the leftovers, but since you and your uncle are here I doubt we’ll even have to open a freezer bag. We’ll just send leftovers home with you!”

Eddie liked the sound of that. 

An hour or so passed before you all sat down to share your meal, and Eddie was amazed how quickly his nerves had dissipated in that time. The two of you sat cozied up on the couch, munching on fruit, cheese and deviled eggs. Your dad had offered Wayne a beer, and the two of them sat watching football in front of the TV until your mom gave the all-call for dinner. 

Everyone loaded up their plates, remarked on how good the food looked, thanked your mom for all of the hard work that went into today’s meal. This was quickly followed by a pointed thank you from your mother to Eddie for the “best mac ‘n cheese I’ve ever had” according to her. He was pretty sure she was just being nice, but he didn’t care. Her smile was still contagious- one of those ‘I love you no matter what’ mom smiles.

He’d forgotten about those.

He’d also forgotten what it was like to sit at a dining room table with more than three people. For a second, he’d been worried that you were all about to hold hands and pray, which wouldn’t have been ideal since all Eddie could remember about the dinner prayer was “bless us, oh Lord, for these thy gifts,” and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. 

But there wasn’t a prayer. This wasn’t a test he’d forgotten to study for, just a meal where Mom and Dad and Uncle were all happy he was here, happy each other were here. That was new. And when your dad asked Eddie how school was going, for once he had nothing but good things to report. He’d gotten a 95 on his last English test. For the first time since sophomore year, he wasn’t failing a single class. And when your dad said “Glad to hear you’re doing well, son.” Eddie felt you squeeze his thigh lightly, just above his knee. He saw Wayne smiling proudly out of the corner of his eye.

Eddie could get used to this. 

Conversation flowed easily in your family; no one felt the need to talk about the weather or ask arbitrary questions, and thankfully nobody decided that “we should go around the table and all say something we’re thankful for!”. There wasn’t a need for it. None of you needed to say it out loud to know you were all thankful for each other. For this. 

By the time dessert came around, Eddie started to think he might be dreaming. Apparently, you were the one always in charge of dessert in your household. And while he’d grown very acquainted with your chocolate chip cookies, he hadn’t been adequately prepared for your pecan pie. Or your chocolate & peanut butter sheet cake. Or the chocolate pudding/cool whip/cookie crumb whatever-it-was that you’d spooned onto his dessert plate. 

Could a person become delirious after consuming too much sugar? Eddie wasn’t sure if it was sugar that was causing him to start wondering what you’d look like making all these desserts in a kitchen that you both paid rent for, or if that was just him. It was probably the sugar.

As soon as Eddie was shoveling his last bite into his mouth, he was looking over to see if you had any left for him to mooch off of you. Your plate was empty- scraped clean, even- and then you were grabbing his empty plate and standing to take them into the kitchen. Eddie was about to pout when you looked at him knowingly and asked, “You want seconds? I’m getting seconds.”

It wasn’t the sugar. Eddie wanted to know what your signatures looked like together on a lease. And Eddie couldn’t believe it had taken him so long to finally admit to himself that he’d been nursing a crush on you since… when had it started? Eddie wasn’t sure. Somewhere between seventh grade history class and this very moment, he figured. 

He looked up at you from his seat, mouth still stuffed with pie crust and cool whip, and smiled when he noticed how pretty you looked in that sweater you were wearing. It was red- you wore red a lot, he realized. Had you always worn red this often?

You giggled, poking his cheek. “You look like a chipmunk when you smile like that.” 

His eyes followed you as you disappeared into the kitchen, and when Eddie caught a glimpse of the way Wayne was grinning at him? Well, his blush was a deeper shade of scarlet than your sweater.

The smile stayed, though. Even a punch to the jaw couldn’t knock that off Eddie’s face.

“I wanna take you out.” 

It had taken Eddie what felt like ages to finally ask you. You were both at school, and he had been thinking about it and thinking about it and ramping himself for weeks to just grow a pair and ask you. The question had sounded smoother in his head, but now he thought he sounded vaguely frightening- sharper and more desperate than he’d hoped.

You blanched, eyes wide and mouth open to a little “O” shape that made Eddie’s heart flutter. 

You were so cute. How had he ever ignored it?

You grinned a little, “Take me out like… assassination, take me out, or…?” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head, laughing nervously, “I mean like, out. To a place. Or multiple places, if you want.” He was jumpy, his hands switching from his pockets to the strap of his backpack, to his hair, to the fraying edges of the friendship bracelet you’d tied around his wrist in July. 

“So when you say take me out, you mean like… on a date?”

There it was. You’d said it, that word. Date. It was out in the open now. 

You’d put the ball in Eddie’s court, and he should be happy about it. This was how it was supposed to be, right? He needed to be a man, take control, take the lead. But unfortunately, it had taken the majority of his bravery just to initiate this conversation.

“Do you want it to be a date?”

Just like that, he passed the ball to you. Eddie cursed himself, waiting anxiously for your response, completely at your mercy.

You looked down at your shoes covered in his doodles, at the red plaid of your flannel that you wore because you’d bought it in hopes that if he started to associate you with his favorite color, he might like you more. Like you the way you liked him.

You couldn’t say the words either… couldn’t speak them into existence without fear of sounding too desperate, too eager. So instead, you nodded yes to your doodle covered shoes and smiled at the dragon he’d drawn on the left toe.

Eddie beamed- inwardly, of course. Couldn’t let you see exactly how happy he was that you felt the same as him- he needed to be calm, to be cool. Girls liked calm and cool.

 “Then it’s a date, Sweet Tart.” He ached to sling a triumphant arm over your shoulder, but shoved his sweating hands into his pockets instead. 

You snuck a glance at Eddie, your smile refusing to leave no matter how cool you were trying to appear. Be cool, don’t act too desperate, you chided yourself. 

“It’s a date.” you repeated, beaming up at him. “When were you thinking?”

“Well,” Eddie shrugged as you both came to a stop by your locker. “Finals are next week and then we’re off for Christmas break, so I should be able to pencil you in for next Saturday night.” He leaned against the adjacent lockers, a smug smile shining down on you. 

“Pencil me in, huh?” you giggled, replacing the notebooks and folders from your last class with your supplies for the next. “I’m flattered you could fit me into your busy schedule.”

“If there’s one thing my schedule always has room for, it’s you, Ace.” 

Swooning. That was the only word for what those words made you do. You weren’t sure if Eddie was aware of the effect he had on you, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to help it if he was. 

You were actually grateful for your final exams the following week- they gave you something to focus on other than your date with Eddie. Which meant that the moment you’d finished your last exam on Friday, that date was the only thing on your mind.

Your date with Eddie. The words alone were enough to make you smile to yourself. You’d been harboring this crush on him for the better part of this year, and now he asks you on a date? Was it possible that he had felt the same way all this time? 

“You sure you’re cool if I don’t stay for the whole session tonight?” you’d asked Eddie as he’d prepared for Hellfire that afternoon, triple-checking that he wasn’t upset. It had become a routine for the two of you- your weekly presence as the one and only audience member for Hellfire’s in-game escapades. 

“Cool as a cucumber, Ace.” Eddie had replied, “You took three exams today, for crying out loud. Go take a nap.” 

When you finally conceded, he’d walked you from the gameplay table to the door, even going so far as to hold it open for you. Then, to your surprise, he’d taken your hand in his and brought it to his lips. 

“Go rest up.” He’d muttered, low enough so only you could hear. Then he’d brushed his lips against the back of your fingers, and you’d just about melted on the spot. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 8, Sweet Tart.”

Your hand still tingled as you thought about the feel of his lips on your skin. Now, you wanted that feeling everywhere. 

Your body was on autopilot as you made your way through the school parking lot; slushed, muddy snow sat piled up in corners and untouched patches at the edges of the lot from the on-again off-again winter precipitation over the December weeks. Your booted feet marched on toward your car, your mind entirely occupied by thoughts of tomorrow. 

You were so distracted by that thought that you didn’t notice who was waiting for you, leaned up against the trunk of your car.

“Hey there, firecracker.” 

You stopped short when your eyes snapped up to see Alan, along with a couple guys from the basketball team. Their faces were pure predatory malice as Alan eyed you up and down. 

You paused a moment, your heart rate picking up a notch when you realized just how empty the parking lot was, given the hour that had passed since the final bell. 

“I have to get home.” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the driver side door and making your best attempt to brush past the jock leaned up directly beside it, but to no avail. 

“Not so fast, you little freak.” Alan stepped into your path, a cruel smile creasing his freckled face. “We just wanted to chat!”

“You,” your voice betrayed every ounce of disbelief that you felt looking up at the meathead blocking your path to your own vehicle. “-want to chat. With me?”

“I know, I know, you’re flattered-”

“I’m not.” 

“Well you should be.” Alan peered down at you with frigid eyes. “Lord knows no guy will ever want to be seen with you now that the Freak’s got his claws in you.” 

You felt a surge of indignant fire seep into your gaze. “Piss off, asshole.” You attempted to shove past him, but Alan took a step toward you, throwing off your balance. You had to grab the bumper of the car beside you to keep from falling over, clutching at the books in your arms to avoid dropping them onto the icy pavement below. 

“I even heard he branded you.” Alan’s hot breath sent an unwelcome shiver over your skin. “Sherrie said she saw you in the locker room with… some kind of symbol… on your upper thigh, I believe?”

A biting breeze whooshed past you, but you didn’t feel it- your body had already gone ice cold. 

“Sherrie’s lying.”

“You know, I don’t think she is.” Alan’s hands crept closer toward you, ghosting fingertips across the fabric of your skirt. “But if you want to prove it to us…”

You felt your stomach drop when one of Alan’s friends stepped behind you, boxing you in. They were like vultures- to them, you were already down for the count. Ready to be picked at and preyed upon.

Slapping Alan’s hand away, you attempted once again to squeeze past him and his goons, anxious for the safety of your driver’s seat and a locked door between you and them. Unfortunately, Alan had other plans. 

“Come on,” he crooned, “girls don’t get tattoos unless they want people to see them. Go ahead and show us.”

“Go. Away.” you gritted through your teeth. 

“The Freak’s seen it, hasn't he?” Alan pressed, his hand grasping the fabric of your skirt in his fist. “What, you’ll slut yourself out for him, but not us?”

“What the fuck are you dickheads doing?” 

You’d never been so thankful to hear Robin’s voice in your life. 

Alan sneered at the unfamiliar sophomore, subtly letting go of your skirt. “Who the hell are you?” 

Robin marched up to the boy standing behind you, powering her glare with just enough ferocity that he actually moved aside. Grabbing your shoulders, Robin pulled you a good five feet from Alan and looked you square in the eye. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, pulling your car keys from the pocket of your backpack. You were anxious for something tangible to fidget with, something to ground you in where you stood, away from Alan and his wandering hands.

Once she was sure you were alright, Robin turned the full force of her fury on the boys that stood around your car. 

“Mr. Dunne was right behind me on his way out here, so unless you want me to tell him that I just found you groping a female student, I suggest you scram.” 

You saw Alan weighing his options for a moment, but eventually he stuck his hands in the pockets of his letter jacket and- thankfully- took his leave. 

“Whatever, freaks.” he muttered, strolling away like a brat who had grown up believing himself to be invincible in a system that agreed with him.  

It wasn’t until the two of you were both sitting in your car and safe behind locked doors that you finally let out the breath you’d evidently been holding. “Fuck him.” you huffed. “Fuck. Him.”

“Fuck him.” Robin agreed with an emphatic nod of her head. “Has he ever even talked to you before? That seemed… super random, honestly, I’ve never even seen him look in your direction.” 

“I may have picked a fight with him after I heard him call Eddie and I freaks in class not too long ago.” you winced, remembering how brazen you’d been that day… you’d been so bold, so fearless, but that girl was nowhere to be seen today. Instead, you’d frozen like a cornered fox surrounded by hounds. It made you feel so small, you thought you might be sick. You hated feeling this way.

“Apparently,” you continued, “his girlfriend saw my tattoo in the locker room. He said he wanted to see it for himself.” 

Robin had been the first person- and only person- you’d shown your little bat to after Halloween. She’d been pretty impressed… after she’d stopped worrying about it getting infected, of course. 

“First- ew. Gross.” Robin grimaced. “Second- are you telling me you just change in the locker room with that thing out in the open?” 

“I’m usually super careful about keeping it hidden!” you argued, “But it is a possibility that I might have been a little rushed to get to my next class at some point… I guess I wasn’t careful enough.”

A short silence settled while you mentally kicked yourself. I should have known this would happen. How could I be so careless? 

“Well,” Robin started, suddenly chipper. You knew this tone; she was about to try and cheer you up. Good luck, Rob. 

“You’re going to drive me to your house and then we’re baking cookies and watching whatever movie you want.” 

While you were still far from what you would consider over what just happened, your interest was definitely piqued. “Whatever movie I want?” you countered. 

Robin sighed. “I know what you’re about to ask, and yes, we can watch The Dark Crystal.”

The beginnings of a smile stretched across your face. “And you won’t call any of the puppets creepy at any point?”

“Let’s not go that far.” she deadpanned. “I will watch it, I will eat cookies, and I will not suggest that we turn it off before the movie is over. This is my final offer.”

For Robin, that was a pretty good deal. Your beginnings of a grin had graduated to a full-on smile as you took her hand and gave it a grateful squeeze. “You’re a good friend.”

She returned your smile, and squeezed your hand back before letting go to buckle her seatbelt. “I’m a great friend. Now start driving, I’m hungry and we’re stopping for french fries.”

Part 7

Taglist: @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92, @melodymishahiddlestan , @sadlittlesquish, @clarafornerlyknownasclaire-blog , @stylesxmunson , @fishwithtitz , @elvendria , @carrotbunnies21 , @the-unforgivenn , @munson-blurbs, @writinginthetwilight, @ghost-proofbaby , @hellfire--cult

I added a few people to the taglist who’ve shown an interest in the series or have been my sounding boards during the writing process for this story. Hope y’all don’t mind!😊❤️

[tarotmander]

Mourning

A Poem By Sal Engle

I’ve been mourning my parents since the day I was born.

That's pretty melodramatic of me to say but the older I get the more I realize it’s true.

I know that no parent is perfect.

But when I look at my mother and my father, I realize that most parents at least try to be.

The saddest part of coming from a broken home is that you never really get to mourn what could have been.

Or maybe it’s that you never really get to get over losing what you never had.

My dad used to beat my older brother and when he moved in with his dad, mine started to beat on me.

My mom never said anything. 

I used to hate my brother for leaving. 

Now I hate my father for staying.

Going to college has allowed me to realize a lot of things.

I was never the villain.

My brother did what he had to.

My mother was just as bad as her husband. 

And that I feel sorry for the grown man who had to beat a kid because he was to stupid to learn basic communication skills.

I also realized that I miss missing them.

When I was a kid I would always have to go home early from sleepovers because I missed my mom so much.

Now I live over two-hundred miles from her and I barely feel a thing. 

The worst part of coming from an abusive home is always wanting to go home, but having nowhere to go.

Because the house you live in hasn’t been home for over a decade. 

It stopped being home when you started taking the hits for your younger siblings' mistakes.

It stopped being home when you started finding ways to get away for more and more time every day,

It stopped being home when you spent more time thinking about how to kill yourself than about what you wanted for your birthday.

It stopped being home when you felt selfish for being happy.

I haven’t felt safe in years because of my parents.

My mom would read my journals,

My dad would hit me over the stupidest shit.

One time I remember I had said something about him needing to put the dog away because I was busy and she was being a little annoying. 

He replied with something about locking me up in a kennel everytime I annoyed him.

So being a seventeen year old with a perfect duplicate of his temper I spit back “so do it then.”

I had a friend over so I thought he wouldn’t do anything.

I was wrong.

He came into the kitchen where I was making us dinner because, gods forbid he cook for his kids, and he cornered me by the fridge.

He tried to hit me and I pushed him away.

First rule of a physically abusive parent is never fight back.

I forgot the rule and got my comeuppance for that mistake.

He grabbed my throat, pinned me against the wall, got in my face and yelled at me.

Told me to “never fucking put your hands on me.”

He wasn’t drunk, or high, just pissed. 

My crime was being a mouthy teenager.

My punishment was being choked and slammed against a wall.

It’s been two years since then and I still remember exactly how he smelled, how his hand felt, the look in my younger sibling’s eyes when he walked away. 

Most importantly I remember how I just went back to making the fucking mac-n-cheese on the stove while I choked down my sobs. 

Because of shit like that I never learned how to respond when someone would hurt me. 

I got into my first fight at thirteen for some guy who was treating me as bad as my parents did. 

The girl I got into it with beat my face so bad that I had a black eye and spotty vision for a week.

My first thought after I got away from this bitch?

“Damn you’d think I would be able to take a hit by now.” 

Do you realize how fucked up that was.

Because I didn’t.

I stood in the girls bathroom of my middle school sobbing and I just berated myself because I couldn’t take a hit at thirteen. 

She almost broke my eye socket and I was just pissed that I was crying over it. 

My dad had this saying.

“Never be a victim, be a survivor.”

And he brought it up every single time I talked about anything bad in my life. 

I wasn’t allowed to be angry or upset or to hold a grudge because I needed to “get over it.”

I got beat up? Get over it.

I got left behind in a house fire as a child? Get over it.

I was sexually assaulted? Get over it

I was molested?

I was abused?

I was dumped?

Get over it, get over it, get over it.

I wasn’t allowed to be upset.

And my mother echoed that sentiment. 

In theory she is very much the grin and bear it type.

Which is ironic because in practice she’s more the get drunk till you forget it type.

Because of that I slowly came to the realization that my parents would never be there for me. 

And once I realized that I started to mourn our relationship.

I mourn my parents not because I love them.

In fact if I got a call that my parents died last night I would go out, get a fake ID, and drink myself stupid to celebrate. 

I mourn them in the same way you mourn a fake friend.

I mourn the people I wanted them to be.

Not who they are. 

I mourn the way I wanted them to be.

I mourn because I know that no matter what I do or how hard I try I will never make them proud enough to say it sober. 

And that hurts.

I will never say it doesn’t.

But I will say that it doesn’t matter.

Because their opinions of me haven’t mattered for a long time. 

I just had to accept that to feel better. 

I don’t have parents, I haven’t had parents for a long time.

But that’s okay.

I’ll mourn that family for the rest of my life.

Losing a parent while they’re still alive hurts as much as them dying.

Except when you lose them while they’re alive you spend the next twenty years being haunted by someone you never got to know. 

But one day I’ll get over it.

And one day I’ll finally put away the mourning clothes.

And that day is the day that I’ll finally be okay.

[btnclmrttn]

Hii! Could you do headcanons for Genos, saitama and Garou when they're sick?

Thank you so much <33

Great idea, thank you for the suggestion!

If they're sick

~~~~

Totally bummed his plans are ruined

He's a good boy and takes medicine/goes to the doctor if he needs to. He has shit to do and won't sit around waiting to be better

If he has a fever and chills, cold like symptoms, he can be a bit of a whiner, tbh. He'll sit and mope a good distance from his S/O because he wants to be held but doesn't want them sick

If he's just got a massive migraine and just body pain he's more irritable and won't talk much to avoid being rude. Just tries to sleep it off.

If he's sick, like nausea for example, he has a hard time. He HATES being nauseous and does not like throwing up at all. He'd probably get to a point where he don't even want to open his mouth or even drink water

You and/or Genos gotta help him out with his fear, make him stay hydrated at least, or he'll get worse. The both of you are a great team and can get him going easy

Unless it was a life-threatening illness he'd probably never end up in the hospital. In general he has good health with a side of some allergies every now and then

Now because he's a cyborg, the equivalent of him being sick is like needing/having an update

Maybe even phantom pains from when he was once human and had a serious injury lately

No medicine is needed, it's not like he has an actual immune system

He's a little forgetful, sluggish, sleepy, and randomly has inaudible speech. He'll zone out and sleep mode will activate out of the blue. It isn't very common he "faints"

He tries to isolate himself because he finds it humiliating. Will "hide" by just facing away from everyone at a distance. Saitama tries his best to talk him into just laying on his futon for a bit but he refuses stubbornly

Now if you're involved it's different. If you tell him to do something, he'll do it for sure. He knows you probably know what's better for him and he doesn't want your health affected by worrying over him.

Sometimes you gotta be Saitama's "translator" and tell him things Saitama really said. Like the futon thing. The both of you can work something out together alright

After a long shut down he'll be back to normal

He's literally so embarrassed to be any kind of sick around you. Vulnerability doesn't come easy for him in any way

Attempts to tough it out without medicine, and hates the doctor. There's only so much you can bribe him with to take it, too. He just thinks he's better than doing it the easier (logical) way

I wanna HC this fool with lactose intolerance. Partially because it could be likely if his diet growing up, bad as it was, wasn't usually dairy

Also because he's got dumb energy. He would not care and would rather be sick than not eat a good bowl of Mac n Cheese. At least he has a high pain tolerance

He's gonna tell you don't baby him if he's bedridden but yes he does like it go ahead. Just be subtle

That if you can get him to let you help. He won't ask so you gotta play close attention. It can be a pain cause he's avoiding you for the most part

Needs lots of reassurance. He's got an anxiety about being taken advantage of or hurt. It's nothing personal

You just gotta mom him to death for him to be cooperative. It'll be fine

[bitches-who-write]

Can you do headcanons siblings of the gang ? Like, how they act with them and how they treat them and how they let the gang act with them ?

Somewhat important note below~

So we know we said we take requests on a first come, first serve basis; however for the sake of time today (and due to the fact that we did not post anything last week) we decided to take on this request early. PLEASE do not be offended or upset if you are still waiting for your request! We promise we will be getting to them ALL. After this post now, we will go back to our fist come, first serve rule.

We have a few requests which we'll be writing longer stories for vs casual headcannons. Stories typically take us several hours to complete since your 2 lovely bitches who write do not live close enough to one another. We write together via FaceTime and Google Doc. We appreciate all your support and patience with us as we write you guys the best content possible! Enough rambling now, Enjoy these headcannons!!!

Patrick With A Little Sister-

Oh boy… Patrick is crazy over protective of his little sister.

Maybe the word should be obsessive and controlling instead~

He watches her every move. He even comes into her room as she sleeps just to occasionally check on her.

Whenever she gets out of Belch’s car heading to school, Patrick keeps a close eye on her again. Mentally noting everyone she talks to.

He makes sure everyone is in line. It doesn’t matter if it’s an adult or a kid. If they do something Patrick doesn’t like, they’re getting fucked up.

Patrick refuses to let guys talk to her. Only Henry, Vic and Belch are allowed to.

When Patrick isn’t around, he puts the other Bower’s Gang members in charge of her. And she knows well enough to listen to them.

He sometimes makes inappropriate comments about her, resulting in a smack off the head by the other guys.

Patrick LOVES to mess with her.

Always holding things over her head so she can’t reach.

Laughs as she tries to jump up and grab it from him.

He’ll lean down and rest his arms on the top of her head since she’s so much smaller than him.

When she doesn’t listen to Patrick, he will literally just pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and laugh as she struggles to get down.

Even though she’s a girl and a few years younger than him, doesn’t mean she’s safe from how rough Patrick gets.

He still wrestles her to the ground and puts her in a damn headlock.

Definitely gets a few bruises from Patrick playfully hitting her. (Patrick doesn't realize his own strength.)

One word… tickled. Patrick is always tickling the shit out of her to tease her.

It’s even worse when the entire Bower’s Gang joins in on torturing her.

Look… this is Patrick. So he still has a mean, sadistic side.

He gets off on fear so he loves to scare her anyway he can.

Whether that is by jumping out at her, or doing something dangerous and reckless like picking her up and dangling her over the cliff edge to the quarry. (she hates heights and doesn’t know how to swim.)

“Uh no! You’re slipping! Better hold on, sweetheart. I know you don’t know how to swim.” He chuckles darkly, smirking down at her as she grips onto his forearm tightly and cries.

Patrick doesn’t hesitate on the low- blows, either. Making comments that he knows will make her cry.

If she threatens to tell their parents on him, Patrick will grab her from behind agressively, making her gasp as he covers her mouth tightly and whisper tauntingly in her ear:

“Now, Now.. Just why would you say that? You know that only gets you in trouble, little one..” He chuckles darkly and tightens his grip in a painful manner.

Patrick With A Little Brother-

…… I think we all know how this ended…. Patrick disliked his little brother, Avery… a lot. You see, Patrick likes being the only male sibling. It’s less competition and less hassle for him. Only Patrick is allowed to make (more like break) the reputation of his family’s name in the small town of Derry, Maine. Bottom line, if Patrick had another little brother, it would result in the same outcome as Avery. Sorry.

Belch With A Little Sister-

Very protective. Does not let her out of his sight for a second.

Hovers over her when they walk in the woods so she doesn’t trip or fall down.

He brings her along when he goes out with the guys sometimes, unless he knows they will be partaking in illegal activities.

Keeps snacks in his car for whenever she rides with him and always makes sure she eats 3 proper meals during the day.

Not only does he have extra snacks but he has a first aid kit, too.

He’s always prepared knowing she’s small, so there’s a good chance she’ll accidentally get hurt hanging around the guys.

And yes, it has happened on more than one occeasion.

He checks on her during school and makes sure no one is messing with her.

After school, Belch makes sure she does her homework but never really helps her with it. Why would he? He doesn’t even do his own assignments.

For the most part, he’s pretty sweet but sometimes the big brother power goes to his head.

He makes her do her chores and his around the house.

If she ever did something wrong, Belch goes right to blackmail.

“I won’t let mom know about that F on your report card… only IF you wash my car everyday the rest of this week.

Henry purposely spills his drink on the hood of the car right after she just got down cleaning it.

“Opps.. looks like you missed a spot. Better get to it, kid.” Henry says mockingly as he ruffles her hair walking by.

Belch always makes sure she’s safe in bed by the end of the night though.

He even kisses the side of her head when the guys aren’t around.

Belch With A Little Brother-

He takes him under his wing.

Loves to talk about cars- the makes and models, horsepower, you name it.

Even though his little brother isn’t old enough to drive yet, that doesn’t stop Belch from giving him driving lessons.

But bet your life he threatens him before taking off. “I swear to fuck though man, if you crash my car, I will end you. Okay, now put it in reverse. Let’s go”

Belch watches sports with him and even plays in the backyard, as well.

Belch acts as if he’s his coach to prepare him for the school’s team.

He also teaches him how to properly lift weights and spots him, too.

Belch told him “the ladies love a man with muscles, so to keep lifting bro.”

Speaking of girls, Belch was the one who gave him ‘the talk’... in very elaborate and explicit detail leaving his brother shocked, disgusted, and intrigued all at once.

Although he does hang out with his brother from time to time, sometimes Belch chooses friends over family and takes off for long periods of time.

Belch for the most part tries to be patient with him, but still gives his brother tough love as a form of preparing him for the real world.

Overall, Belch is a pretty decent big brother.

He means well but sometimes misses the mark.

Henry With A Little Sister-

Their father works long shifts, often resulting in an absence in their home life.

Henry’s dad basically tells him he’s fully in charge of his little sister.

Henry acts pissed off about that like she’s a bother and interrupts his life but deep down, it makes him feel important for once in his life.

Henry is both very strict and protective over her.

He’s also very controlling such as who she’s allowed to talk to or what she’s allowed to wear.

Nothing short or low cut is allowed. She better not even think about talking back, either,

Henry doesn't have much patience for anything and his temper is even worse.

For example- Her short legs means she walks slower than the rest of them.

Henry rolls his eyes and ends up dragging her by her wrist or sometimes just throwing her over his shoulder because he can’t stand waiting for her.

When it comes time for school, Henry makes sure everyone knows she’s a Bowers. If anyone (child or adult) even just so much as looked at her funny, Henry is throwing hands.

Speaking of school, Henry doesn’t help her with any bit of projects or homework. “Don’t fuckin’ ask me! You do it, or don’t, I don't really give a shit.”

When it comes time for dinner, Henry makes simple stuff like peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, mac n’ cheese, or sometimes just fixes a bowl of cereal. But he always makes her clean up the mess / dishes after.

If she talks back, Henry has no problems getting in her face and yelling loudly.

Sometimes when his anger gets the best of him, he’ll smack her across the face.

He stiffens up when he sees the tears form in her eyes. Sometimes he just walks away and doesn’t want to deal with it, and other times he stands there stiffly and gives her an awkward hug.

“Sorry kid. I didn’t mean to hit you. You just pissed me the fuck off.”

Henry would never let anyone ever see this but occasionally he gives her a quick kiss to the side of her cheek when he’s feeling extra guilty. 

Similar to Patrick, Henry loves to get on her nerves.

Tripping her as she walks by.

Embarrassing her in front of the other guys just to see her blush.

Smacking her off the head as he walks by- her angry face makes Henry laugh.

Tickling her to make her admit something or as a form of punishment because he knows she hates that.

Barges in her room without knocking first.

Warns her she's never, ever allowed to have a boyfriend. And if she has a crush on either Vic, Belch, or Patrick...she’s dead meat.

Won’t allow her to drink alcohol or smoke. If she sneaks and does it, Henry teaches her a ‘lesson’.

“Find you wanna drink? Then here, take it. But now you have to drink the entire thing.”

He smirks and watches her get sick from the alcohol thinking that actually taught her a lesson and will deter her from it in the future.

Speaking of drinking-

When their dad comes home drunk, Henry is the one to take all his shit just to protect her because deep down he does care about her even though he calls her a “little fucking shit” daily.

Henry With A Little Brother-

In Henry's warped mind, his brother is a guy too, so he doesn’t need to be coddled like his little sister does.

If Henry has to withstand hits and verbal abuse, then his little brother should too. “Why should he get a pass?” Henry scoffs.

Henry gives him a lot of tough love.

He tries to make him ‘stronger’ by saying some really rotten shit to him. “Builds character, get used to it, kid.”

Henry does teach his brother how to fight though. “Put those stupid fuckin’ books down pussy. Books can’t teach you how to be a fucking man, but throwing punches will.”

Henry gave his little brother his own knife for his birthday.

He told him since he’s a Bowers, he's a target so it will come in handy~

Gives his brother “advice” on girls and sex; telling him which girls around town ‘put out’ the most.

One day when his brother asked Henry about a particular girl Henry responded with: “Ooh yeah, (random girl’s name), the only thing good about her is her pussy. Face is busted.”

Overall, Henry isn’t too bad towards his brother but once again, when his temper is raging, no one is safe from him.

Vic With A Little Sister-

Overly cautious and protective of her. He’s basically like a helicopter parent.

When the guys are swearing around her, he covers her ears and tells the guys to cut it out.

“Guys! Language!”

“I’m only a few years younger than you guys, I’m not a child!” she retorts.

Patrick, being classic creepy Patrick circles around her. “Just give it a few more years babe. Based on how your mom looks...” Patrick licks his lips envisioning Vic’s mother until Vic smacks him in the balls making Patrick hunch over in pain.

Vic likes to keep her in sight so right after school, he goes straight to her locker and makes sure she rides home with them, too.

When they get out of the car to bully some kids, Vic tells her to stay put. He doesn’t want her involved in anything.

When walking through the woods to the quarry, He always has a hand around her upper arm for support when climbing down the embankment.

He watches her like a hawk when swimming, so paranoid something will happen. Again, think helicopter parent

While he’s sweet for the most part, there’s times he just loses his temper.

He’ll explode and begin yelling at her, only inches from her face.

Sometimes when she does something really, really out of line, Vic will shove her into Henry and Patrick.

“Here guys, teach this little bitch a lesson for me. And don’t go easy on her.” Vic says walking off to calm down.

A part of him feels a little guilty when he sees her cry but other times he feels it’s justified.

He isn’t overly affectionate with her around the guys, the most he does is put an arm around her shoulder.

Sometimes sneaks behind her and tasers her sides and laughs when she jumps and collapses to the ground.

But when no one is around, he 100% gives the best hugs.

When she’s going to a sleepover at a girl-friend's house, Vic tells her to be safe and mumbles, “love you.”

Back at home before bed, Vic will tease her for being paranoid as she makes her way around the house, triple checking to make sure all the windows and doors are locked.

“What? Afraid the boogeyman is gonna getcha?” Vic mocks.

If she’s having a nightmare and calls for Vic, he’ll come and sit on the bedroom floor next to her bed until she falls asleep again.

Vic With A Little Brother-

Vic isn’t as protective over his little brother as he is with their little sister; but he still cares for him.

He just feels that his brother is able to hold his own while his sister needs more protection/ guidance.

He let’s his brother tag along with the guys. They all don’t mind. If anything, they refer to his little brother as Vic number 2.

He genuinely listens to his brother’s interests. Okay.. sometimes he zones out when he drones on and on but he always acts interested.

Vic is pretty book smart so he helps his brother with school work, especially in math.

Tries to make his brother more confident when it comes to talking / picking up girls.

Basically acts as his wing man.

The guys try to give his brother tips on how to pick up girls...Vic usually tells him to ignore everything they say because all that's gonna earn him is a slap in the face.

Tells him not to listen to Henry or Patrick for girl advice.. EVER.

He does teach his brother how to fight though.

Just because Vic is one of the sweeter ones in the gang; that doesn’t change the fact that he’s in a gang to begin with…

When his brother told him he was being picked on, Vic taught him how to fight, but also got involved himself.

Nothing like sending an intimidating message to a few assholes.

When Vic and his brother fight with each other, he doesn’t hold back just because that’s his little brother.

Overall, they get along for the most part and Vic is a pretty decent older brother to his siblings.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever

A Very Rogers Christmas.

Part 1- The Best Things In Life Are Tree.

Summary: It’s that time of year again and the Rogers family prepare to go and pick their Christmas tree. But when Emmy calls with a bit of bad news, it puts a little downer on the whole thing for Katie and Steve decides to call in reinforcements to pull off the best Christmas Heist he can…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go, Part 1 of my Stark Spangled 2020 Christmas special- A Very Rogers Christmas.  This one was written for for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @sagechanoafterdark​ ‘s Winter/Holiday Challenge. My prompt- Finding the PERFECT Tree.

It feels like AGES since I wrote for my babies so I hope you enjoy this little three parter. Part 2 posting next Friday, and part 3 on Christmas Eve.

SSF Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist 

"Daddy, I found something else I want to ask Santa for, for Christmas." Rori bounced into the study and Steve closed his eyes on the papers he was trying to grade and sighed.

"I bet you have." He mumbled before he glanced up at his daughter and couldn't help but smile at her as she skipped over to him, her long pony tail swinging behind her "What is it, Princess?" "A capybara." she said, scrambling up onto his lap. "A what?" Steve frowned. "A capybara. Look!" she turned the tablet she was holding towards him to show him a picture of the brown animal "They're like huge guinea pigs. I saw one at the zoo with Uncle Buck yesterday and when I said I wanted one he told me to tell you that I was gonna ask Santa." "Course he did." Steve sighed, mentally cursing his asshole best friend. "You know, Rori, don't think Santa can get you one of those." "Why not?" "It’s too big." He attempted “There’s nowhere for us to keep it.” "Our garden is huge!" Rori blinked at him. "And when Emmy and Petey move into the Tower he can live in the cabin." Trust her to be as damned smart as her mother. "They're wild animals honey." Steve shook his head as he tried attempt number two. "But they live in a zoo." Rori looked up at him, her face full of eager excitement “That’s not the wild.” "Yeah but that’s different." Steve reasoned patiently. "They're not like dogs or cats or regular guinea pigs. They need very special care.” "Oh." Rori looked down a little, her shoulders slumping and Steve sighed.

Fuck you, Bucky.

"Okay. Never mind." She clicked off the screen of her tablet and turned towards Steve, looking up at him with those damned green eyes. "Do you think he could get me a kitty instead?"

No, just say no… "Maybe."

Way to go, Rogers. Rori's eyes lit up and Steve inwardly groaned. It was a well-known fact in their house that whenever Dad said maybe, it meant yes. Fuck.

“I love you Daddy!” she beamed, reaching up to press a kiss to his bearded cheek before she hopped off his lap and skipped towards the door “Oh, me and momma are going to make gingerbread men for tomorrow so we can have them when we decorate the tree.”

“Can’t wait baby.” He smiled

“Are you gonna be working tomorrow afternoon?” she asked a little shyly and he shook his head.

“No, I promise.”  He assured her. “All day tomorrow is family day.”

She gave him another huge smile, one that truly warmed his entire being as it made her look even more like his wife, and then headed out of the room, her feet pattering on the tiles of the hallway as she skipped back into the other part of the house. Steve exhaled and looked back down at the paper, groaning as he realised he’d lost his place. He’d been home early that afternoon hoping for more peace and quiet than he got in his office at the University to concentrate on getting through all these and for the most it had worked, until Jamie and Rori had arrived home from school full of it as usual. Katie had kept them out of his way for the most but the realisation that Christmas was well on the way had hit the eldest two and whipped them up into a fever.

Not that Steve particularly cared. He adored this time of year. It was Katie’s holiday and from the day after Thanksgiving the Christmas period started in full throttle in the Rogers household, and they’d picked tomorrow, 2 weeks before the schools broke up, to go and pick the trees for their lounge and hallway. He was a little disappointed that it hadn’t snowed yet, there had been a good covering the previous year but, still it was set to be a cold and dry day so they could still get bundled up and have their hot chocolate and snacks as usual.

He rubbed at his eyes and focussed, reading through the paper in front of him on the ‘Strategy, Diplomacy and politics of Axis and Allied forces in WW2’, wishing to God he was marking something on the course he was actually employed to teach now- Fine Arts- but all those had been done and graded last week. This was the module of History that he taught, because as the Uni said- he was a living, breathing expert.

Aparently.

An hour or so later he finished red-penning the final six paged essay, with a proud smile as that one had been particularly good and he quickly checked it over once more, making sure he’d captured all the notes on the electronic copy and queued it up to send on Monday, just like Katie had shown him how to, so that each student had the hard copy and soft copy back. He stood up, stretched, turned off his laptop and headed through to the main area of the house, the smell of baking and cooking hitting his nostrils as he went.

He walked into the kitchen to find Rori kneeling on one of the tall stools over the island-slash-breakfast bar, her hands and face smeared in pink icing as she decorated a gingerbread man, her little tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. Katie was stood supervising Harry who was also covered in frosting, this one bright green. Flossie sat in the highchair opposite, banging a spoon on the tray occasionally letting out a yell or babble of something incoherent. As soon as she saw Steve she gave a huge grin and her shouts became louder and he smiled.

“Hi Floss-Floss!” he beamed, crossing to drop a kiss to her head before he looked across at Katie “Where’s Jamie?”

“Upstairs in his room.” Katie gave a little sigh “He said, and I quote, ‘I’m ten now, far too old to decorate gingerbread, mom.’ I could have cried there and then Steve.” She finished with a pout.

Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, the fact her eldest baby boy was growing up was something he knew she hated “Yeah, I bet he won’t be too old to eat them, though.” He appeased and she smiled.

“That’s what I said.” Rori gave a dramatic roll of her eyes and Steve chuckled.

“You finished Grading?” Katie asked as she gently guided Harry’s hand over the cookie shaped like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, all done. Sorry it took so long.”

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, smiling “Your dinner is in the oven. I already ate with the kids. Sorry, I was starving.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait.”  Steve walked over the room and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

He made his way over to the Aga stove and opened the door, giving a little groan when he saw she’d done his favourite, a Mac and Cheese bake laced with chicken, chorizo and broccoli. He turned to look at her and didn’t miss the flicker of a smile on her face as she knew what he was thinking, before he pulled out the plate giving a yell as it burnt his fingers, dropping it onto the side with a clatter.

“Careful daddy, hot!” Harry turned to face him, and Katie burst out laughing.

“Yeah, thanks Son.” Steve tried not to roll his eyes as he sucked his thumb. Grabbing a tea-towel he gripped the plate, found some cutlery and sat down at the table to the side of the kitchen, tucking in.

“I finished all mine, Momma.” Rori grinned, placing the tube of squeezy frosting down on the side. Steve watched as Katie moved to look over Rori’s shoulder.

“Good job sweetie.” She smiled, “Creative, I’ve never seen a pink cat before.”

Steve paused and looked at Rori as she grinned “I know they’re not really pink, and my kitty won’t be, but it can have a pink collar.”

At that he winced and hastily shoved another forkful of food into his mouth, praying that the conversation stopped there.

Katie sighed “Rori we’ve been over this, you can’t have a cat.”

“Daddy said I could.”

Shit.

Katie’s eyes shot to Steve and he gave her his best innocent look, but from the way her features grew stern he knew he was utterly busted and he swallowed the food in his mouth which turned to cement in his throat.

“No, that’s not what I said.” Steve shook his head.

“You said maybe.” Rori shrugged “Same thing.”

“We getting a kitty?” Harry asked, looking at Katie.

“No.” she shook her head.

“But I asked Daddy if Santa would bring me one and he said maybe.” Rori looked at Katie.

“Well Daddy is wrong.” She glared at Steve and he visibly shrank in his seat. Katie’s green eyes narrowed before they turned back to Rori. “Santa can’t bring live animals. It’s in the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The Christmas Rules” Katie said quickly “No live animals. It’s not fair on them. They don’t like the sleigh.”

“But…”

“No buts Rori.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “I’m sorry honey, but it’s not gonna happen.”

Rori pouted a little but she knew when she was beat and glanced down at the cookies on the tray before she looked up, grinning smugly. “I’ll just ask Uncle Bucky to get me one. He got me Dory.”

“Oh for the love of…” Katie spluttered “Uncle Bucky won’t get you one either.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll tell him not to.” Katie looked at her “We have Stark. No more animals.”

Rori folded her arms and at that point Steve stepped in, sensing an impending tantrum.

“Aurora.” He said sternly and she turned her head to face him as he pointed his fork at her. “Enough.”

She glared at him before she sighed and looked at Katie “Can I get down now please?”

Katie obliged and pulled her stool out a little allowing Rori to hop down. “Stay right there little miss.”

“Why?” Rori frowned as Katie headed to the sink, coming back with a cloth. With a groan, Rori held out her hands so Katie could wipe them clean, along with the little smear of icing on her face “20 minutes and then its bath time. We’re up early in the morning.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Rori bounced excitedly “To pick our trees. Hey, can I get one for my room?”

Katie hesitated before she shrugged “You know, I saw some in the shop that already have the lights on and they change colour. We’ll get a big one for the lounge and hallway like normal and I’ll get you a special one. And you get to keep it for next year and the year after.”

Rori pondered this for a moment before she shook her head “I want a real one from the farm.”

Katie groaned, and threw her hands out to the side “Fine, just, go and watch TV or something in the Play Room.”

“I watch TV too please, Momma?” Harry asked and Katie nodded, cleaning him up too before she lifted him down off the stool. He toddled after Rori, yelling for her to wait and as soon as they were gone Katie rounded on Steve.

“Honey, I…” he began and winced as she exploded on him.

“Seriously? A damned cat?”

“She caught me unawares.”

“She always catches you unawares!” Katie scoffed “After six, almost seven years I’d have thought you’d be used it by now.”

“I only said-“

“And as usual I’m left to be the bad guy.” Katie ranted, shaking her head as she moved to turn Flossie’s chair so she was facing the table. “You’re an asshole.”

“This is technically Bucky’s fault.”

“Oh, no, Steven Grant Rogers! Don’t you are try and blame this one on Buck.” She hissed.

“But he took her to the zoo and told her to ask for a capybara!” Steve practically whined “When I said no she asked for a cat, the maybe just slipped out.” Katie paused, her arms folded, face furious and Steve peered up at her giving her a little smile “Don’t be mad, come on baby. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re still an asshole.” She grumbled, before she crossed to the fridge and pulled out the wine. “And for that you can deal with bedtime. I’m going for a bath.”

“Sure, not a problem.” Steve nodded, swallowing more of his food. Katie poured herself a large glass before she moved to put the bottle back and then changed her mind. With the bottle in one hand, full glass in the other she made for the door. “I love you.” Steve shot as she passed him, and despite her annoyed demeanour, the slight smile that played on her face told him he wasn’t in too much trouble.  

****

All kids were bathed and in bed little over an hour later. The youngest three settled down to sleep, Jamie instructed he had an hour of TV or reading time before lights off.

“Ok Dad.” He nodded, running his hand through his hair as he tidied up his games console a little, Stark curled up on the bed.

“I’ll be in to check.” Steve looked at him, and Jamie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I got it. You can trust me.”

“I know.” Steve gave a chuckle “Night son.” He crossed the room to drop a kiss to his head and Jamie pushed him away.

“Gerroff, I’m ten.”

“Yeah, well, you’re still my kid so…” Steve grumbled, and Jamie burst into laughter as the pair of them began to play fight, Jamie digging Steve in the ribs with a well-aimed jab. “Ouch! “ Steve stood up, rubbing at his side, that had hurt a little too much for his liking. “Nice shot.”

“Bucky said I had a good right hook.”

Steve rolled his eyes “I don’t wanna know how he even found that out.”

“He has a punch bag in the garage.” Jamie shrugged as he flopped down onto his bed. “Like yours. He was teaching me to swing.”

“I could teach you that.” Steve replied, a little petulantly.

“Will you?”

“No. You’re ten.” He shot back and Jamie let out a groan of frustration, before Steve chuckled “Ok, I’ll teach you a little IF you promise not to use it anywhere but on the punch bag.”

“But what if I need to use it?”

“Well, that’s different.” Steve pondered, before he shook his head. “But you’re far too young to be getting into situations like that.”

“Uncle Buck said you were fighting people form the age of six. And getting your ass kicked.”

“Well, you do as I say…”

“Not as I do, yeah I got it.” Jamie grinned and Steve arched an eyebrow before he made his way to the door. He paused and turned back to look at his son, not for the first time taking in how damned tall and broad he was for his age. He pointed to Stark “Don’t let your mother catch him on the bed.”

“You know she says the same thing about you.” Jamie looked at him and Steve chuckled.

“I do, but let’s just pretend I don’t okay?”

“Okay, night dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Steve smiled, closing the door behind him.

He made his way back downstairs and into the lounge, and paused as he saw Katie talking into the laptop, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said softly, and he could tell she was fighting to keep her face straight as Emmy’s voice came from the other side.

“I’m just gutted we can’t get home to come with you guys for the tree.”

“What’s going on?” Steve frowned as he sat next to Katie on the sofa, looking at Emmy and Peter as they both waved to him on the screen “Hey Kids.”

“The UK has been caught up in a huge snow storm.” Katie turned to him. “Their flight has been cancelled.”

“Bummer.” Steve’s frown deepened “Is there nothing from another airport?”

“Not in London.” Emmy shook her head “And the roads are that bad, even if we managed somewhere else…”

“Don’t wanna risk driving Mr R.” Pete shrugged and Steve had to give it to him, that was a sensible move.

“Wise decision.” Steve bit his lip, before he turned to Katie “Can we not get The Stark jet over? You guys should have used that anyway, not gone commercial.”

The irony of his statement didn’t pass him by, as there’d been a time when he had hated using a private jet as he felt it was ostentatious, but he’d fast learned to live with it as it was less hassle and a damned sight comfier and quicker too.

“I told you we didn’t want to.” Emmy shot back and Peter hastily cut in to prevent an argument.

“Already tried Happy before we called. He can’t get in any airfield be it private or other. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Katie shook her head “If you need anything just call. Have you got a place to stay?”

“Yeah, The Savoy found us another room.” Emmy shrugged before she grimaced “I’m gonna have to put it on my credit card though.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Katie shook her head “Just do what you gotta do, we’ll sort the bill out. Do you need us to wire you some cash or-“

“No, we’ve got enough between us for that.” Pete smiled “Just the hotel. We could get somewhere cheaper if that’s-“

“If it’s that bad out there you can stay where you are.” Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about the money kids, it’s not important.”

“Just call us if you need anything.” Katie added.

“Thanks Mom. Look, we’re gonna go try and get something to eat and then sleep” Emmy sighed “It’s past 1 am now.”

“Sure, call us tomorrow okay, keep us updated.” Steve instructed and Emmy nodded.

“Will do. Love you both.”

“And you.” Katie smiled “Stay safe, and look after each other.”

“Got it.” Emmy grinned and with that she blew them both a kiss as Peter waved and the screen went blank.

Katie bit her lip before she tapped at the keyboard of her laptop “I’m going to send her some money, just in case. I know she has plenty in her savings, but…”

Steve nodded “Good idea. Those are for a rainy day, not a snowy one.”

Katie gave a small smile as she logged into the banking, and hesitated before she transferred a few thousand over to Emmy and closed the laptop, running her hands over her face. Steve saw her shouldes shake and he gave a sigh, pulling her to him.

“Hey, come on. They’re safe. In the poshest hotel known to man.” He pressed a kiss to her head “No doubt thinking this is some kind of huge romantic adventure. Snowed in, in London, with a mini-bar, room service.”

At that thought he grimaced, as his mind took him to a very dark place about just exactly what the spider kid would be doing to his daughter in said hotel room but he shook himself out of it as Katie spoke, sniffling a little.

“I know it’s just, well we started this tradition with Emmy that first Christmas she lived with us.” Her voice cracked “We went with Tony, Pep and Nat remember?”

“I could I forget.” Steve chuckled, his hands rubbing Katie’s back “You were almost five months pregnant and had that jumper on with a huge Christmas pudding on the front.”

“I’ve still got that.” Her voice was muffled as her face pressed into his Henley.

“And Pepper was going mad when Tony bought that nine foot tree for their lounge.”

“Ours wasn’t much smaller.” Katie laughed, leaning back to wipe her eyes. “You had to trim the top off.”

Steve chuckled, his hands cupping her face “A few days after that we found out bump was blue. Hello Jamie.”

“God it seems so long ago.”

“It was.” Steve smiled pressing a kiss to her lips. “11 years.”

“Yeah.” Katie looked at him “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

Steve nodded, as he wiped her face with his thumbs “And a lot worse than this. I know it’s disappointing, kitten, and I’m gutted as well, but it can’t be helped. We’ll still have a good time and we can go out with Emmy and Peter when they get back, nice meal and a few drinks somewhere instead, just the four of us. Start a new tradition now she’s all grown up.”

“Yeah suppose.” Katie sighed “I mean when they moved out in the New Year, they might not wanna come with us to get a tree anymore.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.” Steve snorted “She’ll simply be getting one for her own place. You know she loves Christmas as much as you. All the kids do. Because you make it so special.”

“It isn’t all down to me.” She smiled “You help.”

“It’s definitely your speciality.” Steve shook his head “You do the baking, the carols, the cooking…suss the decorations out.”

“Yeah, but you hang them. And you’re the one that started leaving Santa footprints by the hearth.”

“Okay so it’s a team effort.” Steve shrugged, dropping another kiss to her lips. “It always is when the kids are concerned.” He pulled back a little and nodded to her glass “You want another?”

“I wasn’t going to but yeah, now I do.”

Steve chuckled “I’ll go get us a drink, you find us something suitably Christmassy to watch.”

He stood, pressing his lips to the crown of Katie’s head before he wandered into the kitchen. As he closed the door behind him he pulled out his phone. He’d had an idea, but hadn’t wanted to mention it to Katie just in case it didn’t work…but if it did, well, he was going to reunite his family for their tradition and earn himself major husband points.

Win win situation.

“Hey punk.” Bucky drawled as he picked up.“What’s crackalackin?”

“God you talk some shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky laughed

“Sorry, we were watching Madagascar.”

“Yeah, I know where it’s from. I got five kids, remember. Six if I count you.”

“Well you could argue Diva Doll counts for two so you really have seven.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, I got a bone to pick with you about her and a damned capybara.” Steve narrowed his eyes as he spoke and there was a pause before Bucky burst out laughing. “Yeah, laugh it up, jerk. That got me in some major shit before.”

“You didn’t say yes?”

“No of course I didn’t.” Steve sighed “But she sideswiped me asking for a damned cat and I said maybe, so…”

“You fucking moron.”

“Whatever, listen, that’s not why I’m calling anyway.” Steve sighed, his voice growing serious. “I need a favour, Buck.”

“I’m listening.” Bucky replied, before Steve explained the predicament and possible solution. When he finished there was a pause and Bucky let out a long whistle. “Man, that’s…”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed “But I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. Katie’s heartbroken Emmy can’t get home.”

“Well, we can’t have the second most important woman in my life upset now can we?” Bucky replied “Leave it with me.”

“Cheers buddy.”

“You’ll owe me a life time of favours if I can pull this off.”

“We’ll call it quits for you almost getting me couched.”

“Not my fault you can’t say no to your likkle Princessa.” Bucky responded and Steve snorted.

“You’ve met her, right?”

There as another pause and Bucky laughed “Point taken.”

“Not a word to Katie.” Steve instructed “Just in case you can’t do it.”

“You seriously doubt me after all this time?” Bucky sighed “That hurts Stevie.”

“You know what else will hurt?” Steve shot back “My foot up your ass.”

“You want me to do this or not?” Bucky scoffed “Because threatening me aint gonna make me wanna do you any favours.”

“No but not wanting to see my wife upset is.”

“You fight dirty, Steven.” Bucky’s voice was low and Steve could imagine the narrowed eyes he was pulling as he spoke. “Okay, I’ll call Sam now. Leave it with me.”

“Thanks Buck.”

Steve cut the call and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, running a hand over his beard. Buck was right, it was a big ask and ridiculously over the top but, well, nothing was too much for him where his family was concerned. And after everything they’d been through this year what with Flossie’s horrific birth and Katie’s post-partum depression, his amazingly brave and gorgeous wife deserved the damned world. With a sigh he yanked open the fridge as he pulled out Katie’s wine and a beer for him, simply hoping that it worked.

**** “You good?” Steve asked as Jamie hopped into the back of the Q7, taking his place on the rear row of seats.

“Yup.” Jamie grinned “I prefer it back here, Rori can’t bug me.”

“Wanna bet?” Rori turned her head and peered at him from her place in the middle of the second row and Steve shot her a look.

“Enough. I hear one sound outta you that’s annoying him, we’re coming straight home.” He said sternly. Rori eyed him shrewdly, as if weighing up whether he was serious or not and he raised his eyebrows, challenging her.

“Ok Daddy.” She shrugged, turning back round. Steve shot Jamie a wink as turned and collapsed Flossie’s little stroller. He slotted it down the side of Jamie’s seat before he shut the trunk and then quickly inspected the roof rack. Satisfied he looked up just as Katie came out of the house, Flossie on her hip, Harry jumping down the steps in front of her. He headed over to his dad and peeked up, Steve giving a laugh as his little woollen hat slipped down over his eyes.

“Come here, buddy.” He said, swinging him into his arms. The little boy gave a giggle as Steve pulled his hat straight so he could see.

“Thanks Daddy!” he smiled and Steve pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek.

“No problem. You ready to get a tree?”

He nodded “Big one!” he threw his arms out wide and Steve nodded seriously.

“The biggest.”

Ten minutes or so later they were sailing out of Brooklyn in the winter morning sun, heading for the tree farm some forty or so minutes away. True to her word, Rori was behaving and chatting to Harry, Jamie was quiet in the back doing something on his tablet and Katie was gently humming to something on the radio. Steve’s hand reached over for hers and he entwined their fingers, gently bringing her arm across his body, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

The journey pass uneventfully and as Steve announced they had arrived the kids all gave a cheer. He parked the car up and then the disembarking began along with issued orders for Jamie and Rori to stay where they were as they sorted the youngest two.

“I think I’ll just carry Floss.” Katie glanced around. “Pushing her stroller is gonna be a pain. I’ll put her in the carrier.”

“You sure?” Steve asked “I would say I’d do it but…”

“You’re gonna be carrying trees, yeah I know.” Katie waved him away. “Its fine, she’s not heavy. Besides, she’ll be too big to do this with next year.”

Steve smiled at her wistful tone, and between them they had Flossie strapped to Katie’s back in no time, having become experts at it over the years. Katie glanced over her shoulder as Flossie gave her a hug grin, before she peeked around and started to gabble animatedly.

“Ready?” Steve looked around and held the hand that wasn’t containing the saw out, Rori taking it as Katie took Harry’s, Jamie falling into step at her other side next to Steve who strategically placed himself between his eldest son and Rori to avoid any potential arguments between the two siblings.

“Want me to take that Dad?” Jamie asked, nodding to the saw. Steve hesitated then shrugged, it had the safety cover on so he handed it over, Jamie slinging it over his shoulder proudly, stepping in front of them a little and Harry wriggled his hand free of Katie’s and ran forward to take Jamie’s. Jamie smiled down at him and Steve shared a glance with Katie as she smiled at him, slipping her hand into his. The family made their way to the entrance and as they approached the various little trade stands, one of which was selling various hot drinks and baked snacks. Katie took a deep breath and smiled, the warming scents of spices, cinnamon and pine hitting her nostrils.

“Smells exactly the same.” She beamed and then frowned as Steve was looking around, blatantly not listening to her as he was busy studying something to their right.

“Hey!” she tugged on his hand and he glanced down at her.

“Sorry, honey.” He diverted his attention “Just saw someone I know.”

“Oh, from work?” she asked.

“Not exactly.” He nodded in the direction he had been looking and Katie spun at the same time Rori let out a shriek.

“Emmy!” she yelled, wrenching her hand free of Steve’s and bolting towards her sister as she strode towards them alongside Peter, Bucky and Sam.

“I don’t-how?” Katie was struggling for words at the sheer emotion of seeing her eldest daughter, who should still be stranded in England, sweeping Rori into hug. “Steve? What?”

“You got Bucky and Sam to thank.” He said gently, as she spun between them all, before she strode forward meeting Emmy halfway and throwing her arms around her.

“Hey mom!” Emmy smiled, before she pulled back and gently waggled Flossie’s hand. “Hi Floss!”

“How did you get here?” Katie sniffed, wiping her eyes, chuckling before she gave Pete a hug.

“Quinjet.” Emmy grinned “It was awesome. Hey Dad!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve swept her up into a huge hug, picking her up slightly off the ground kissing her head. “Nice to have you home.”

“Hold up, a Quinjet?” Katie looked at Emmy, then to Bucky who shrugged.

“Yeah well Steve rang me last night begging for my help…” he began, putting on a whiney voice “Please Buck, I can’t do this without you Buck, you know the usual.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky sniggered. “So, me and Birdbrain set off on a daring rescue mission.”

“Yeah, we totally used and abused Fury’s equipment.” Sam chuckled, as he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek as he gave her a hug. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

“Oh, screw him!” Katie gave a laugh as she turned to Bucky, wrapping her arms round him. “Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you darlin’” he beamed before she stepped back and spun to face Steve, reaching up and grabbing his face. With a smile she pulled him down to meet her in a long, deep kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, and he beamed at her, his nose brushing hers. “I love you, so much.”

“Love you too.” He smiled, before he drew himself up, a little embarrassed at their PDA in front of his two friends and the kids. “Right, who’s ready to go tree picking?”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Bucky smirked as various excited shouts rang out around them. “I’ve got stuff to do with Jen and Sam’s…ahhhh, crap.” The smile on his face turned into a grimace and Steve spun round to see a familiar figure in a trench coat and eyepatch stood by a black SUV watching from a distance.

“Son of a-” Steve snorted, shaking his head as Fury started walking towards of them. “He still knows everything.”

“You have no idea. “Sam muttered.

“Oh, trust me, we do.” Katie grinned as Fury stopped in front of them.

“Someone wanna tell me why one of my jets was in London this morning?” Fury looked at Bucky, then to Sam, then to Peter, all three of them giving him an innocent look.

“Well, there was a thing.” Bucky shrugged “Emergency.”

“Emergency.” Fury dead panned “So nothing to do with a certain Miss Rogers and Mr Parker being stuck in London in snow storm?”

“How do you know this stuff?” Bucky looked at him.

“I told you Barnes, you wanna get one up on me you gotta keep both eyes open.” He levelled him with a look. “Happy called me in a flap to see if I could action a pick up and I told him I wasn’t running a damned Uber service. And then one of them went missing so I put two and two together and looks like I came up with four” He paused and shrugged, smirking a little “Plus, you forgot to wipe the mission log.”

“Damned it Tin Man!” Sam shoved Bucky “You dick, I told you!”

As the two men began to squabble Fury raised his eyebrows and turned to Steve and then Katie, a small smile flickered across his face “Nova, Cap. Long-time no see.”

“Hi Nick.” Steve smiled, reaching out and shaking his hand.

Fury jerked his head as Katie shook his hand, his eyes roving over each of their kids in turn. “I’ll say. You’ve been busy I see.”

Katie gave a huff “One way of putting it.”

Nick arched an eyebrow before he sighed and turned to Bucky and Sam who were still bickering. “Imma let this one slide.” He spoke loudly, the two men instantly turning to face him. “But only because it’s the holidays and I’m in a good mood.”

“You know technically Stark Industries owns half those jets. Tony paid for and designed a lot of the tech on them after all.” Katie quipped and Nick looked at her, before he let out a laugh.

“You’re more like your brother than you’ll ever care to admit” he shook his head as she snorted, pointing at her.

“Worse people to be like.” She smiled fondly, and Fury gave one last scoff before he turned to Sam and Bucky.

“I’ll see you two later. Now, imma go get me some churros then split.” He looked back at them all “Merry Christmas.”

As they all waved him off, watching the curious glances he attracted as he strode towards the hot food stand and then Harry tugged on Steve’s sleeve, causing him to turn his attention from Fury to the little boy.

“Daddy, who’s the pirate?” Harry asked.

There was a pause before Katie burst out laughing, Steve following suite as they both shared a knowing glance, remembering Tony’s fond little nickname for their one time director.

The Goth Pirate.

“He’s an old friend of mine and your momma’s “Steve explained before he glanced up, not surprised to find that once more Fury had disappeared from sight. “We haven’t seen him in a while. And I doubt we will again for a long time.”

There were more hugs shared and after another final thank you to Sam and Bucky, Katie demanding they come over later for drinks, the four remaining adults and four kids all headed into the farm and the chaos began as they began to scout for their perfect trees.

“So we need two large ones.” Katie spoke, “And one for Emmy and Pete in the Cabin and a smaller one for Rori’s room.” she paused “Jamie, did you want one for your room too?”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He shook his head “Thanks though.”

“So four over all.” Steve nodded. “Okay gang, let’s find us some trees.”

They decided to get Rori’s first as it would be smaller and easier to carry once they’d picked it. They set about walking down the various aisles, and before long the jokes started flowing and they were getting worse and worse with time.

“What would you get if you ate the Christmas decorations?” Pete asked and Jamie looked at him, arching a brow. “Tinselitis.”

“Oh God.” Emmy snorted “That’s as bad as one of dad’s”

“Which reminds me.” Steve said, a smirk on his face, “Did you guys hear the forecast for Christmas eve? They’re predicting rain, deer…”

Katie and Emmy both let out a groan as Jamie and Peter howled with laughter.

“What do you call an elf that runs away from Santa’s workshop?” Jamie asked and Steve paused before he shrugged.

“No idea.”

“A rebel without a Clause…”

Katie, Steve, Emmy and Pete burst out laughing as Pete held out his hand to hi-five him. Jamie grinned.

“That’s a good one buddy.” Steve chuckled. “Where did you hear that?”

“Moo text me before.” He smiled “She said her and Auntie Pep had been googling them to put in their cards this year.”

“Like Father like daughter.” Katie smiled to herself, a little nostalgically as a memory of her brother crashed over her and Steve pulled her a little closer, his hand tightening on hers as he dropped a kiss to her head.

After half an hour or so of scouting and plenty of excited shouts and laughter, Rori paused in front of a tree that was the same height as her and she gave a gasp.

“Daddy, that one.” She pointed.

“You sure?” he cocked his head to one side. The tree was leaning to one side, the branches completely uneven, sticking out at all angles and the top was bent. “It’s a bit-”

“It’s perfect.” Rori insisted.

“Okay Princess, whatever you say.”  He looked at Katie as she smiled, her hand dropping to the back of Rori’s head. “Jamie, you got the saw?”

“Yup.” Jamie nodded, passing it over and they all watched as Steve gripped the trunk of the small tree with one hand a little higher up and began to cut it towards the bottom. He could have easily snapped the trunk with his bare hands but he played the part and in four strong swipes it pulled free with a little crack and Rori gave a shriek and clapped her hands.

“I love it!”

Once the safety cover was back on the saw they continued their search, walking towards the slightly bigger trees they spotted and Katie paused in front of a large, Norwegian spruce and reached out, gently crushing one of the needles between her fingers. She took a sniff and stepped back, nodding.

“That one.”

“I still can’t believe you pick them with the smell.” Steve shook his head.

“It’s not all the smell.” She protested “There’s a lot to consider. The height, width and spacing of the branches…this one’s just right for the corner in the lounge. And that one two down will do for the hallway.”

Steve chuckled, knowing better than to argue. “Positive?”

Katie nodded and once more Jamie passed him the saw. This time they all stepped back as Steve crouched down on the ground, expertly cutting the trunk and just the right place. As he took the final swipe, the tree pitched over to a loud shout of “Timberrrrr” from Jamie and Peter and it landed with a thud.

Harry gave a loud cackle and clapped, Flossie shrieking too as Steve then moved two down and repeated the action with a slightly smaller one that would sit in the entrance lounge directly in front of the photo of the pair of them at their wedding, so it would be the first thing anyone saw as they walked into the house.

Emmy strode past the tree to one that was behind it and then nodded to Pete “I think this one will do. I kinda like the way it fans out at the bottom.”

“Sure, Em.” He smiled “Mr R?”

“Oh, here.” Steve handed him the saw and watched as Pete cut his and Emmy’s first Christmas tree down, his arm round Katie’s waist, lips softly kissing Flossie’s cheek as the baby grinned. He arched an eyebrow as Emmy pressed a kiss to Pete’s lips, giving a soft huff as Katie dug him in the ribs, shooting him a warning glance which he returned with an innocent one of his own.

“Well, that was easy.” Emmy commented “It took us 2 hours last year.”

“They need to be right.” Katie shrugged simply, Steve and Emmy exchanging a look before Steve watched as Pete hoisted his tree easily onto his shoulder. It still surprised Steve how strong Peter was, even though it shouldn’t, he knew he was enhanced after all.

“I’ll take Rori’s, Dad.” Jamie stepped forwards, puffing his chest out a little, picking the smaller tree up easily and placing it on his shoulder, in an identical manner to Pete. Steve actively fought the urge to laugh as Jamie began to walk besides Peter and Emmy, clearly proud as punch at being able to help before he turned to Katie.

“Don’t say it.”

Katie laughed “Oh I’m gonna.” she smirked “If he was any more like you I’d be convinced he was a clone.”

Steve snorted as he bent down and easily lifted their two trees onto his shoulders, before they followed a little slower due to Harry being with them. Steve maneuvered around the other tree pickers as they went, his boot clad feet traipsing on the damp of the ground as they made their way back towards the main entrance and joined Pete, Emmy and Jamie at the place ready to pay. As the various helpers, all dressed in little Elf outfits bustled around to wrap their trees and strap them to the roof of the Audi, Katie was suddenly struck with a little problem.

“Hang on.” she turned to Emmy as she thanked the man who’d been dealing with and handed over the cash. “How are you two gonna get home if Bucky and Sam left?”

At that Pete gave a little grin and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, “Mr Wilson let me borrow his Chevvy.”

“Yeah they went home on Buck’s bike.” Emmy shrugged and at that Steve let out a huge laugh.

“What?” Katie asked.

“Sorry, I’m just picturing those two riding pillion.” He snorted “I give it five minutes before Sam ended up tells Buck to let him off on account of him driving his Ducatti like a maniac.”

“You’ve no room to talk.” Katie scoffed and Steve looked at her with mock outrage.

“Mom?” Jamie asked and Katie turned to him “Can we get a drink now please?”

“Sure, come on.” She smiled and they headed over to the stall. She purchased a hot cider each for her, Steve, Emmy and Pete before hot chocolate for each of the kids along with a selection of donuts, churros and Stollen as Steve took Flossie back to the car so they could pop her in the stroller. They made their way over to one of the benches by the side and sat down and Steve returned, parking Flossie besides them before he handed her a piece of a donut and slipped his arm round Katie, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She beamed, before she glanced over at the other side of the bench. Jamie was settled to Emmy’s left, talking to her about school, as she nodded along whilst Rori was perched on Peter’s knee as she animatedly told him about how she was going to decorate her tree in unicorn colours. Harry meanwhile sat in between both Pete and Emmy, his little frame chewing on a donut as he grinned at his parents who smiled back. Katie turned to look a Steve again, leaning up to kiss him softly “It’s been perfect, thank you for making sure we were all together.”

“Well it wouldn’t be a Rogers Christmas otherwise would it?” he smiled, kissing her again.

“Get a room.” Emmy grumbled and Steve turned to her as she smirked, shoving a piece of donut in her mouth.

“Watch it young lady.” Steve pointed at her.                      

“Daddy.” Rori asked “Can I go with Pete in their car to Target? I need decorations for my Princess Tree.”

Steve hesitated for a while and Pete hastily cut in “It’s no bother Mr Rogers.”

“Yeah we need some for ours.” Emmy nodded.”So we’re going anyway.”

“I come too?” Harry asked hopefully and Emmy shrugged

“If Momma and Daddy say it’s ok, course you can, squirt.”

Steve looked at Katie who shrugged “Fine by me. Sure you can manage them?”

Emmy rolled her eyes “They’re no bother.” She then turned to Jamie “You wanna come too?”

“Hell no.” he said hastily, peering round at Rori before he shook his head “I’m going home for some peace and quiet.”

Both Steve and Katie let out a loud laugh, as Katie shook her head “Oh Jamie.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Nothing pal.” Steve smiled, reaching for his cider. “Nothing at all.”

#ssholidaychallenge #sageandsweater

[hops-hunny]

Miscommunicated Love

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson x Black Ravenclaw! Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.3k

Request: N/A

Summary: After a long feud between two girls with confused feelings, a resolution is finally made.

A/N: there’s not enough love for Pansy out there so decided to make this!

Pansy Parkinson hated most people, but especially (Y/n) (L/n). Just something about the snarky Ravenclaw made her skin crawl. Unlike what she did when she disliked people from other houses, she couldn’t do the same for (Y/n). They had about just every class together except for two. Whenever they were in a five foot radius of one another, the fighting was on sight no matter what. Neither one of them were entirely innocent considering it wasn’t just one who’d start the fights. Sometimes it was Pansy, sometimes it was (Y/n), and sometimes they both came at each other at the same time. The tension was so thick, so dense that not even Merlin could part that sea. The professors tried to separate them, putting them on opposite sides of the room but as expected, that didn’t stop them. Which led to some disastrous times.

It was potions class, both girls’ potion partners had sent them to get the required ingredients not even thinking of what could potentially happen. As (Y/n) was coming up from the bottom shelf and Pansy was getting down from the top shelf they both collided sending them both to the floor. (Y/n) was the first to get up, Pansy still sat on the ground dusting herself off.

“Oh I’m so sorry! Let me he-”

“It’s quite alright, just be more car-”

They shot daggers into each other as they realized who had bumped into them. Some bystanders tried rushing out of the way of the disaster zone while others got closer, curious as to what would happen this time. (Y/n) quickly drew her hand back from the helping position. Pansy stood up straight with her shoulders pushed back as an attempt to intimidate the shorter girl.

“I should’ve known it was you, Parkinson. As a mole it must be awfully hard for you to see things that are clearly visible. Why don’t you go ‘head and make sure you actually grabbed the right things? Better yet get your eyes checked as well because, well, look at you. You walked out of your dorm this morning and decided that,” she made an up and down motion with her hand “That was okay? Hmph, couldn’t be me.” She said, tossing her freshly done box braids over her shoulder. Whispers slowly crescendoed around them. (Y/n) knew she had her stumped as she began to check out her freshly manicured hand. Her victory was very short-lived as next thing she knew, she had unicorn snot dripping down her head. She gasped along with many others, wiping the gooey substance off her face as she looked up at Pansy who wore a smirk.

“Whoops! You know what, maybe you were right (L/n). I do need to get my eyes checked. That was a complete accident, I couldn’t see a single thing when I threw that on you! My apologies darling!” She said, not even bothering to contain her laughter as sarcasm dripped from her words like venom. Bottles of liquids, gels, and everything else soon went flying as the two girls through things at each other. Professor Snape had to end the lesson early in fear one of the girls would throw something harmful at another student. The aftermath in the room was awful, looking like a war zone with a hodgepodge of disastrous smells. In turn, the two girls both got a month's detention and their Hogsmeade’s privileges revoked until their head of houses deemed it appropriate to have them back. 

When they got sent to Dumbledore though, he said something that made (Y/n) rethink her actions. As she made her way back to her dorm that night the words “I expected more from you Miss (L/n). I never expected someone capable of such great things to stoop this low.” and even as her roommates badgered her for the details, she simply shut the lights off. She decided she could only do one thing. Be the bigger person.

After the ‘Great Potion’s Incident’, (Yn) had made it her mission to avoid Pansy as much as possible. At first, she tried taking different routes to class but Pansy always found a way to her. So she did the next thing she could think of: switch her courses. She got permission from Dumbledore and he agreed to let her choose whatever courses she’d like as long as she continued on with the splendid behavior she had been exhibiting. And she did that, making some of the best marks in her class. She had even made some new friends such as Neville from herbology and Luna from care of magical creatures. Although she couldn’t lie, not seeing Pansy left a feeling in her chest that she couldn’t quite place.

 She was currently discussing how excited she was for the upcoming holiday with the two as they exited the great hall. “And yall two should come visit! My momma stays in America so I go back to my auntie’s during the holidays. She makes the most bomb ass mac and cheese. And oh, Nev! You would love her garden, it’s full of some stuff you probably ain’t ever even seen before.” she exclaimed, as she tied her faux locs up into a ponytail. Her friends nodded in agreement expressing how much they’d enjoy giving her a visit during the holiday and encouraging her to do the same.

“Ah, do my eyes deceive me? Well if it isn’t (L/n) in all her...well I’m not sure glory would be the right word to use for the likes of you. What an interesting little sweater! Did you dig it from the trash at the bottom of the lake?” Pansy voiced loudly, making sure her comments reached others. A few Slytherins snickered as they passed but (Y/n) had had enough at this point. She stormed over to the girl, a few centimeters away from her face.

Pansy stood there, still happy about what had happened, lips tingling from the kiss they had shared. (Y/n) turned around one last time to glance at the girl she liked only to be met with a wink and a cocky grin. Maybe a little hate was good for the soul sometimes.

“What the hell is your problem Parkinson? I ain’t done nothin’ to yo’ ass for the past few months and you’re still carrying this shit on?” she spoke through gritted teeth as she poked the girl in the chest, moving closer as Pansy tripped over her own heels. “So, what is it? Do you hate Ravenclaws, maybe it's cause I’m American. Or maybe, maybe you just don’t like me!” she said, raising her tone. She sighed, placing a hand on her forehead as she stormed off in the opposite direction. Pansy stood there silently, she had never meant to take it this far. Sure she liked to get a rise out of the girl, finding her to be quite attractive when angry. Eyebrows furrowed, glossed lips articulating her response so elegantly.

Pansy chased after the girl, yanking her by the wrist when she got close. (Y/n) opened her mouth to say something but was quickly cut off by Pansy’s lips on her own. At first, she was shocked. And that’s when she realized. That feeling she got from not seeing Pansy from a while was longing. Her heart always knew what it wanted before her head caught up. Pansy began to grow hopeless, beginning to pull away but before she could, something unexpected happened. (Y/n) reciprocated the kiss. She brought a perfectly manicured umber hand up to Pany’s smooth face, stroking her skin as the other gripped her shirt. Pansy wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist bringing her impossibly close to her. She was the first to pull away, green eyes staring into brown. “My dorm in an hour?” she said smugly. (Y/n) began shaking her head as she smiled, walking off in the direction of the Ravenclaw dorms. Pansy had a feeling she’d be there.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

A Very Rogers Christmas Part 1- The Best Things In Life Are Tree

Summary: It’s that time of year again and the Rogers family prepare to go and pick their Christmas tree. But when Emmy calls with a bit of bad news, it puts a little downer on the whole thing for Katie and Steve decides to call in reinforcements to pull off the best Christmas Heist he can…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So here we go, Part 1 of my Stark Spangled 2020 Christmas special- A Very Rogers Christmas.  This one was written for For @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @sagechanoafterdark ‘s Winter/Holiday Challenge.

Prompt- Finding the PERFECT Tree.

"Daddy, I found something else I want to ask Santa for, for Christmas." Rori bounced into the study and Steve closed his eyes on the papers he was trying to grade and sighed. "I bet you have." He mumbled before he glanced up at his daughter and couldn't help but smile at her as she skipped over to him, her long pony tail swinging behind her "What is it, Princess?" "A capybara." she said, scrambling up onto his lap. "A what?" Steve frowned. "A capybara. Look!" she turned the tablet she was holding towards him to show him a picture of the brown animal "They're like huge guinea pigs. I saw one at the zoo with Uncle Buck yesterday and when I said I wanted one he told me to tell you that I was gonna ask Santa." "Course he did." Steve sighed, mentally cursing his asshole best friend. "You know, Rori, don't think Santa can get you one of those." "Why not?" "It’s too big." He attempted “There’s nowhere for us to keep it.” "Our garden is huge!" Rori blinked at him. "And when Emmy and Petey move into the Tower he can live in the cabin." Trust her to be as damned smart as her mother. "They're wild animals honey." Steve shook his head as he tried attempt number two. "But they live in a zoo." Rori looked up at him, her face full of eager excitement “That’s not the wild.” "Yeah but that’s different." Steve reasoned patiently. "They're not like dogs or cats or regular guinea pigs. They need very special care.” "Oh." Rori looked down a little, her shoulders slumping and Steve sighed.

Fuck you, Bucky.

"Okay. Never mind." She clicked off the screen of her tablet and turned towards Steve, looking up at him with those damned green eyes. "Do you think he could get me a kitty instead?"

No, just say no… "Maybe."

Way to go, Rogers. Rori's eyes lit up and Steve inwardly groaned. It was a well-known fact in their house that whenever Dad said maybe, it meant yes. Fuck.

“I love you Daddy!” she beamed, reaching up to press a kiss to his bearded cheek before she hopped off his lap and skipped towards the door “Oh, me and momma are going to make gingerbread men for tomorrow so we can have them when we decorate the tree.”

“Can’t wait baby.” He smiled

“Are you gonna be working tomorrow afternoon?” she asked a little shyly and he shook his head.

“No, I promise.”  He assured her. “All day tomorrow is family day.”

She gave him another huge smile, one that truly warmed his entire being as it made her look even more like his wife, and then headed out of the room, her feet pattering on the tiles of the hallway as she skipped back into the other part of the house. Steve exhaled and looked back down at the paper, groaning as he realised he’d lost his place. He’d been home early that afternoon hoping for more peace and quiet than he got in his office at the University to concentrate on getting through all these and for the most it had worked, until Jamie and Rori had arrived home from school full of it as usual. Katie had kept them out of his way for the most but the realisation that Christmas was well on the way had hit the eldest two and whipped them up into a fever.

Not that Steve particularly cared. He adored this time of year. It was Katie’s holiday and from the day after Thanksgiving the Christmas period started in full throttle in the Rogers household, and they’d picked tomorrow, 2 weeks before the schools broke up, to go and pick the trees for their lounge and hallway. He was a little disappointed that it hadn’t snowed yet, there had been a good covering the previous year but, still it was set to be a cold and dry day so they could still get bundled up and have their hot chocolate and snacks as usual.

He rubbed at his eyes and focussed, reading through the paper in front of him on the ‘Strategy, Diplomacy and politics of Axis and Allied forces in WW2’, wishing to God he was marking something on the course he was actually employed to teach now- Fine Arts- but all those had been done and graded last week. This was the module of History that he taught, because as the Uni said- he was a living, breathing expert.

Aparently.

An hour or so later he finished red-penning the final six paged essay, with a proud smile as that one had been particularly good and he quickly checked it over once more, making sure he’d captured all the notes on the electronic copy and queued it up to send on Monday, just like Katie had shown him how to, so that each student had the hard copy and soft copy back. He stood up, stretched, turned off his laptop and headed through to the main area of the house, the smell of baking and cooking hitting his nostrils as he went.

He walked into the kitchen to find Rori kneeling on one of the tall stools over the island-slash-breakfast bar, her hands and face smeared in pink icing as she decorated a gingerbread man, her little tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. Katie was stood supervising Harry who was also covered in frosting, this one bright green. Flossie sat in the highchair opposite, banging a spoon on the tray occasionally letting out a yell or babble of something incoherent. As soon as she saw Steve she gave a huge grin and her shouts became louder and he smiled.

“Hi Floss-Floss!” he beamed, crossing to drop a kiss to her head before he looked across at Katie “Where’s Jamie?”

“Upstairs in his room.” Katie gave a little sigh “He said, and I quote, ‘I’m ten now, far too old to decorate gingerbread, mom.’ I could have cried there and then Steve.” She finished with a pout.

Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, the fact her eldest baby boy was growing up was something he knew she hated “Yeah, I bet he won’t be too old to eat them, though.” He appeased and she smiled.

“That’s what I said.” Rori gave a dramatic roll of her eyes and Steve chuckled.

“You finished Grading?” Katie asked as she gently guided Harry’s hand over the cookie shaped like a Christmas tree.

“Yeah, all done. Sorry it took so long.”

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, smiling “Your dinner is in the oven. I already ate with the kids. Sorry, I was starving.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait.”  Steve walked over the room and dropped a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

He made his way over to the Aga stove and opened the door, giving a little groan when he saw she’d done his favourite, a Mac and Cheese bake laced with chicken, chorizo and broccoli. He turned to look at her and didn’t miss the flicker of a smile on her face as she knew what he was thinking, before he pulled out the plate giving a yell as it burnt his fingers, dropping it onto the side with a clatter.

“Careful daddy, hot!” Harry turned to face him, and Katie burst out laughing.

“Yeah, thanks Son.” Steve tried not to roll his eyes as he sucked his thumb. Grabbing a tea-towel he gripped the plate, found some cutlery and sat down at the table to the side of the kitchen, tucking in.

“I finished all mine, Momma.” Rori grinned, placing the tube of squeezy frosting down on the side. Steve watched as Katie moved to look over Rori’s shoulder.

“Good job sweetie.” She smiled, “Creative, I’ve never seen a pink cat before.”

Steve paused and looked at Rori as she grinned “I know they’re not really pink, and my kitty won’t be, but it can have a pink collar.”

At that he winced and hastily shoved another forkful of food into his mouth, praying that the conversation stopped there.

Katie sighed “Rori we’ve been over this, you can’t have a cat.”

“Daddy said I could.”

Shit.

Katie’s eyes shot to Steve and he gave her his best innocent look, but from the way her features grew stern he knew he was utterly busted and he swallowed the food in his mouth which turned to cement in his throat.

“No, that’s not what I said.” Steve shook his head.

“You said maybe.” Rori shrugged “Same thing.”

“We getting a kitty?” Harry asked, looking at Katie.

“No.” she shook her head.

“But I asked Daddy if Santa would bring me one and he said maybe.” Rori looked at Katie.

“Well Daddy is wrong.” She glared at Steve and he visibly shrank in his seat. Katie’s green eyes narrowed before they turned back to Rori. “Santa can’t bring live animals. It’s in the rules.”

“What rules?”

“The Christmas Rules” Katie said quickly “No live animals. It’s not fair on them. They don’t like the sleigh.”

“But…”

“No buts Rori.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose “I’m sorry honey, but it’s not gonna happen.”

Rori pouted a little but she knew when she was beat and glanced down at the cookies on the tray before she looked up, grinning smugly. “I’ll just ask Uncle Bucky to get me one. He got me Dory.”

“Oh for the love of…” Katie spluttered “Uncle Bucky won’t get you one either.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll tell him not to.” Katie looked at her “We have Stark. No more animals.”

Rori folded her arms and at that point Steve stepped in, sensing an impending tantrum.

“Aurora.” He said sternly and she turned her head to face him as he pointed his fork at her. “Enough.”

She glared at him before she sighed and looked at Katie “Can I get down now please?”

Katie obliged and pulled her stool out a little allowing Rori to hop down. “Stay right there little miss.”

“Why?” Rori frowned as Katie headed to the sink, coming back with a cloth. With a groan, Rori held out her hands so Katie could wipe them clean, along with the little smear of icing on her face “20 minutes and then its bath time. We’re up early in the morning.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Rori bounced excitedly “To pick our trees. Hey, can I get one for my room?”

Katie hesitated before she shrugged “You know, I saw some in the shop that already have the lights on and they change colour. We’ll get a big one for the lounge and hallway like normal and I’ll get you a special one. And you get to keep it for next year and the year after.”

Rori pondered this for a moment before she shook her head “I want a real one from the farm.”

Katie groaned, and threw her hands out to the side “Fine, just, go and watch TV or something in the Play Room.”

“I watch TV too please, Momma?” Harry asked and Katie nodded, cleaning him up too before she lifted him down off the stool. He toddled after Rori, yelling for her to wait and as soon as they were gone Katie rounded on Steve.

“Honey, I…” he began and winced as she exploded on him.

“Seriously? A damned cat?”

“She caught me unawares.”

“She always catches you unawares!” Katie scoffed “After six, almost seven years I’d have thought you’d be used it by now.”

“I only said-“

“And as usual I’m left to be the bad guy.” Katie ranted, shaking her head as she moved to turn Flossie’s chair so she was facing the table. “You’re an asshole.”

“This is technically Bucky’s fault.”

“Oh, no, Steven Grant Rogers! Don’t you are try and blame this one on Buck.” She hissed.

“But he took her to the zoo and told her to ask for a capybara!” Steve practically whined “When I said no she asked for a cat, the maybe just slipped out.” Katie paused, her arms folded, face furious and Steve peered up at her giving her a little smile “Don’t be mad, come on baby. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re still an asshole.” She grumbled, before she crossed to the fridge and pulled out the wine. “And for that you can deal with bedtime. I’m going for a bath.”

“Sure, not a problem.” Steve nodded, swallowing more of his food. Katie poured herself a large glass before she moved to put the bottle back and then changed her mind. With the bottle in one hand, full glass in the other she made for the door. “I love you.” Steve shot as she passed him, and despite her annoyed demeanour, the slight smile that played on her face told him he wasn’t in too much trouble.  

****

All kids were bathed and in bed little over an hour later. The youngest three settled down to sleep, Jamie instructed he had an hour of TV or reading time before lights off.

“Ok Dad.” He nodded, running his hand through his hair as he tidied up his games console a little, Stark curled up on the bed.

“I’ll be in to check.” Steve looked at him, and Jamie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I got it. You can trust me.”

“I know.” Steve gave a chuckle “Night son.” He crossed the room to drop a kiss to his head and Jamie pushed him away.

“Gerroff, I’m ten.”

“Yeah, well, you’re still my kid so…” Steve grumbled, and Jamie burst into laughter as the pair of them began to play fight, Jamie digging Steve in the ribs with a well-aimed jab. “Ouch! “ Steve stood up, rubbing at his side, that had hurt a little too much for his liking. “Nice shot.”

“Bucky said I had a good right hook.”

Steve rolled his eyes “I don’t wanna know how he even found that out.”

“He has a punch bag in the garage.” Jamie shrugged as he flopped down onto his bed. “Like yours. He was teaching me to swing.”

“I could teach you that.” Steve replied, a little petulantly.

“Will you?”

“No. You’re ten.” He shot back and Jamie let out a groan of frustration, before Steve chuckled “Ok, I’ll teach you a little IF you promise not to use it anywhere but on the punch bag.”

“But what if I need to use it?”

“Well, that’s different.” Steve pondered, before he shook his head. “But you’re far too young to be getting into situations like that.”

“Uncle Buck said you were fighting people form the age of six. And getting your ass kicked.”

“Well, you do as I say…”

“Not as I do, yeah I got it.” Jamie grinned and Steve arched an eyebrow before he made his way to the door. He paused and turned back to look at his son, not for the first time taking in how damned tall and broad he was for his age. He pointed to Stark “Don’t let your mother catch him on the bed.”

“You know she says the same thing about you.” Jamie looked at him and Steve chuckled.

“I do, but let’s just pretend I don’t okay?”

“Okay, night dad. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Steve smiled, closing the door behind him.

He made his way back downstairs and into the lounge, and paused as he saw Katie talking into the laptop, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Don’t worry about it.” She said softly, and he could tell she was fighting to keep her face straight as Emmy’s voice came from the other side.

“I’m just gutted we can’t get home to come with you guys for the tree.”

“What’s going on?” Steve frowned as he sat next to Katie on the sofa, looking at Emmy and Peter as they both waved to him on the screen “Hey Kids.”

“The UK has been caught up in a huge snow storm.” Katie turned to him. “Their flight has been cancelled.”

“Bummer.” Steve’s frown deepened “Is there nothing from another airport?”

“Not in London.” Emmy shook her head “And the roads are that bad, even if we managed somewhere else…”

“Don’t wanna risk driving Mr R.” Pete shrugged and Steve had to give it to him, that was a sensible move.

“Wise decision.” Steve bit his lip, before he turned to Katie “Can we not get The Stark jet over? You guys should have used that anyway, not gone commercial.”

The irony of his statement didn’t pass him by, as there’d been a time when he had hated using a private jet as he felt it was ostentatious, but he’d fast learned to live with it as it was less hassle and a damned sight comfier and quicker too.

“I told you we didn’t want to.” Emmy shot back and Peter hastily cut in to prevent an argument.

“Already tried Happy before we called. He can’t get in any airfield be it private or other. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Katie shook her head “If you need anything just call. Have you got a place to stay?”

“Yeah, The Savoy found us another room.” Emmy shrugged before she grimaced “I’m gonna have to put it on my credit card though.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Katie shook her head “Just do what you gotta do, we’ll sort the bill out. Do you need us to wire you some cash or-“

“No, we’ve got enough between us for that.” Pete smiled “Just the hotel. We could get somewhere cheaper if that’s-“

“If it’s that bad out there you can stay where you are.” Steve shook his head. “Don’t worry about the money kids, it’s not important.”

“Just call us if you need anything.” Katie added.

“Thanks Mom. Look, we’re gonna go try and get something to eat and then sleep” Emmy sighed “It’s past 1 am now.”

“Sure, call us tomorrow okay, keep us updated.” Steve instructed and Emmy nodded.

“Will do. Love you both.”

“And you.” Katie smiled “Stay safe, and look after each other.”

“Got it.” Emmy grinned and with that she blew them both a kiss as Peter waved and the screen went blank.

Katie bit her lip before she tapped at the keyboard of her laptop “I’m going to send her some money, just in case. I know she has plenty in her savings, but…”

Steve nodded “Good idea. Those are for a rainy day, not a snowy one.”

Katie gave a small smile as she logged into the banking, and hesitated before she transferred a few thousand over to Emmy and closed the laptop, running her hands over her face. Steve saw her shouldes shake and he gave a sigh, pulling her to him.

“Hey, come on. They’re safe. In the poshest hotel known to man.” He pressed a kiss to her head “No doubt thinking this is some kind of huge romantic adventure. Snowed in, in London, with a mini-bar, room service.”

At that thought he grimaced, as his mind took him to a very dark place about just exactly what the spider kid would be doing to his daughter in said hotel room but he shook himself out of it as Katie spoke, sniffling a little.

“I know it’s just, well we started this tradition with Emmy that first Christmas she lived with us.” Her voice cracked “We went with Tony, Pep and Nat remember?”

“I could I forget.” Steve chuckled, his hands rubbing Katie’s back “You were almost five months pregnant and had that jumper on with a huge Christmas pudding on the front.”

“I’ve still got that.” Her voice was muffled as her face pressed into his Henley.

“And Pepper was going mad when Tony bought that nine foot tree for their lounge.”

“Ours wasn’t much smaller.” Katie laughed, leaning back to wipe her eyes. “You had to trim the top off.”

Steve chuckled, his hands cupping her face “A few days after that we found out bump was blue. Hello Jamie.”

“God it seems so long ago.”

“It was.” Steve smiled pressing a kiss to her lips. “11 years.”

“Yeah.” Katie looked at him “We’ve been through a lot since then.”

Steve nodded, as he wiped her face with his thumbs “And a lot worse than this. I know it’s disappointing, kitten, and I’m gutted as well, but it can’t be helped. We’ll still have a good time and we can go out with Emmy and Peter when they get back, nice meal and a few drinks somewhere instead, just the four of us. Start a new tradition now she’s all grown up.”

“Yeah suppose.” Katie sighed “I mean when they moved out in the New Year, they might not wanna come with us to get a tree anymore.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.” Steve snorted “She’ll simply be getting one for her own place. You know she loves Christmas as much as you. All the kids do. Because you make it so special.”

“It isn’t all down to me.” She smiled “You help.”

“It’s definitely your speciality.” Steve shook his head “You do the baking, the carols, the cooking…suss the decorations out.”

“Yeah, but you hang them. And you’re the one that started leaving Santa footprints by the hearth.”

“Okay so it’s a team effort.” Steve shrugged, dropping another kiss to her lips. “It always is when the kids are concerned.” He pulled back a little and nodded to her glass “You want another?”

“I wasn’t going to but yeah, now I do.”

Steve chuckled “I’ll go get us a drink, you find us something suitably Christmassy to watch.”

He stood, pressing his lips to the crown of Katie’s head before he wandered into the kitchen. As he closed the door behind him he pulled out his phone. He’d had an idea, but hadn’t wanted to mention it to Katie just in case it didn’t work…but if it did, well, he was going to reunite his family for their tradition and earn himself major husband points.

Win win situation.

“Hey punk.” Bucky drawled as he picked up.“What’s crackalackin?”

“God you talk some shit.” Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky laughed

“Sorry, we were watching Madagascar.”

“Yeah, I know where it’s from. I got five kids, remember. Six if I count you.”

“Well you could argue Diva Doll counts for two so you really have seven.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, I got a bone to pick with you about her and a damned capybara.” Steve narrowed his eyes as he spoke and there was a pause before Bucky burst out laughing. “Yeah, laugh it up, jerk. That got me in some major shit before.”

“You didn’t say yes?”

“No of course I didn’t.” Steve sighed “But she sideswiped me asking for a damned cat and I said maybe, so…”

“You fucking moron.”

“Whatever, listen, that’s not why I’m calling anyway.” Steve sighed, his voice growing serious. “I need a favour, Buck.”

“I’m listening.” Bucky replied, before Steve explained the predicament and possible solution. When he finished there was a pause and Bucky let out a long whistle. “Man, that’s…”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed “But I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. Katie’s heartbroken Emmy can’t get home.”

“Well, we can’t have the second most important woman in my life upset now can we?” Bucky replied “Leave it with me.”

“Cheers buddy.”

“You’ll owe me a life time of favours if I can pull this off.”

“We’ll call it quits for you almost getting me couched.”

“Not my fault you can’t say no to your likkle Princessa.” Bucky responded and Steve snorted.

“You’ve met her, right?”

There as another pause and Bucky laughed “Point taken.”

“Not a word to Katie.” Steve instructed “Just in case you can’t do it.”

“You seriously doubt me after all this time?” Bucky sighed “That hurts Stevie.”

“You know what else will hurt?” Steve shot back “My foot up your ass.”

“You want me to do this or not?” Bucky scoffed “Because threatening me aint gonna make me wanna do you any favours.”

“No but not wanting to see my wife upset is.”

“You fight dirty, Steven.” Bucky’s voice was low and Steve could imagine the narrowed eyes he was pulling as he spoke. “Okay, I’ll call Sam now. Leave it with me.”

“Thanks Buck.”

Steve cut the call and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, running a hand over his beard. Buck was right, it was a big ask and ridiculously over the top but, well, nothing was too much for him where his family was concerned. And after everything they’d been through this year what with Flossie’s horrific birth and Katie’s post-partum depression, his amazingly brave and gorgeous wife deserved the damned world. With a sigh he yanked open the fridge as he pulled out Katie’s wine and a beer for him, simply hoping that it worked.

**** “You good?” Steve asked as Jamie hopped into the back of the Q7, taking his place on the rear row of seats.

“Yup.” Jamie grinned “I prefer it back here, Rori can’t bug me.”

“Wanna bet?” Rori turned her head and peered at him from her place in the middle of the second row and Steve shot her a look.

“Enough. I hear one sound outta you that’s annoying him, we’re coming straight home.” He said sternly. Rori eyed him shrewdly, as if weighing up whether he was serious or not and he raised his eyebrows, challenging her.

“Ok Daddy.” She shrugged, turning back round. Steve shot Jamie a wink as turned and collapsed Flossie’s little stroller. He slotted it down the side of Jamie’s seat before he shut the trunk and then quickly inspected the roof rack. Satisfied he looked up just as Katie came out of the house, Flossie on her hip, Harry jumping down the steps in front of her. He headed over to his dad and peeked up, Steve giving a laugh as his little woollen hat slipped down over his eyes.

“Come here, buddy.” He said, swinging him into his arms. The little boy gave a giggle as Steve pulled his hat straight so he could see.

“Thanks Daddy!” he smiled and Steve pressed a kiss to his rosy cheek.

“No problem. You ready to get a tree?”

He nodded “Big one!” he threw his arms out wide and Steve nodded seriously.

“The biggest.”

Ten minutes or so later they were sailing out of Brooklyn in the winter morning sun, heading for the tree farm some forty or so minutes away. True to her word, Rori was behaving and chatting to Harry, Jamie was quiet in the back doing something on his tablet and Katie was gently humming to something on the radio. Steve’s hand reached over for hers and he entwined their fingers, gently bringing her arm across his body, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

The journey pass uneventfully and as Steve announced they had arrived the kids all gave a cheer. He parked the car up and then the disembarking began along with issued orders for Jamie and Rori to stay where they were as they sorted the youngest two.

“I think I’ll just carry Floss.” Katie glanced around. “Pushing her stroller is gonna be a pain. I’ll put her in the carrier.”

“You sure?” Steve asked “I would say I’d do it but…”

“You’re gonna be carrying trees, yeah I know.” Katie waved him away. “Its fine, she’s not heavy. Besides, she’ll be too big to do this with next year.”

Steve smiled at her wistful tone, and between them they had Flossie strapped to Katie’s back in no time, having become experts at it over the years. Katie glanced over her shoulder as Flossie gave her a hug grin, before she peeked around and started to gabble animatedly.

“Ready?” Steve looked around and held the hand that wasn’t containing the saw out, Rori taking it as Katie took Harry’s, Jamie falling into step at her other side next to Steve who strategically placed himself between his eldest son and Rori to avoid any potential arguments between the two siblings.

“Want me to take that Dad?” Jamie asked, nodding to the saw. Steve hesitated then shrugged, it had the safety cover on so he handed it over, Jamie slinging it over his shoulder proudly, stepping in front of them a little and Harry wriggled his hand free of Katie’s and ran forward to take Jamie’s. Jamie smiled down at him and Steve shared a glance with Katie as she smiled at him, slipping her hand into his. The family made their way to the entrance and as they approached the various little trade stands, one of which was selling various hot drinks and baked snacks. Katie took a deep breath and smiled, the warming scents of spices, cinnamon and pine hitting her nostrils.

“Smells exactly the same.” She beamed and then frowned as Steve was looking around, blatantly not listening to her as he was busy studying something to their right.

“Hey!” she tugged on his hand and he glanced down at her.

“Sorry, honey.” He diverted his attention “Just saw someone I know.”

“Oh, from work?” she asked.

“Not exactly.” He nodded in the direction he had been looking and Katie spun at the same time Rori let out a shriek.

“Emmy!” she yelled, wrenching her hand free of Steve’s and bolting towards her sister as she strode towards them alongside Peter, Bucky and Sam.

“I don’t-how?” Katie was struggling for words at the sheer emotion of seeing her eldest daughter, who should still be stranded in England, sweeping Rori into hug. “Steve? What?”

“You got Bucky and Sam to thank.” He said gently, as she spun between them all, before she strode forward meeting Emmy halfway and throwing her arms around her.

“Hey mom!” Emmy smiled, before she pulled back and gently waggled Flossie’s hand. “Hi Floss!”

“How did you get here?” Katie sniffed, wiping her eyes, chuckling before she gave Pete a hug.

“Quinjet.” Emmy grinned “It was awesome. Hey Dad!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Steve swept her up into a huge hug, picking her up slightly off the ground kissing her head. “Nice to have you home.”

“Hold up, a Quinjet?” Katie looked at Emmy, then to Bucky who shrugged.

“Yeah well Steve rang me last night begging for my help…” he began, putting on a whiney voice “Please Buck, I can’t do this without you Buck, you know the usual.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky sniggered. “So, me and Birdbrain set off on a daring rescue mission.”

“Yeah, we totally used and abused Fury’s equipment.” Sam chuckled, as he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek as he gave her a hug. “He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.”

“Oh, screw him!” Katie gave a laugh as she turned to Bucky, wrapping her arms round him. “Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you darlin’” he beamed before she stepped back and spun to face Steve, reaching up and grabbing his face. With a smile she pulled him down to meet her in a long, deep kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered against his lips, and he beamed at her, his nose brushing hers. “I love you, so much.”

“Love you too.” He smiled, before he drew himself up, a little embarrassed at their PDA in front of his two friends and the kids. “Right, who’s ready to go tree picking?”

“We’ll leave you to it.” Bucky smirked as various excited shouts rang out around them. “I’ve got stuff to do with Jen and Sam’s…ahhhh, crap.” The smile on his face turned into a grimace and Steve spun round to see a familiar figure in a trench coat and eyepatch stood by a black SUV watching from a distance.

“Son of a-” Steve snorted, shaking his head as Fury started walking towards of them. “He still knows everything.”

“You have no idea. “Sam muttered.

“Oh, trust me, we do.” Katie grinned as Fury stopped in front of them.

“Someone wanna tell me why one of my jets was in London this morning?” Fury looked at Bucky, then to Sam, then to Peter, all three of them giving him an innocent look.

“Well, there was a thing.” Bucky shrugged “Emergency.”

“Emergency.” Fury dead panned “So nothing to do with a certain Miss Rogers and Mr Parker being stuck in London in snow storm?”

“How do you know this stuff?” Bucky looked at him.

“I told you Barnes, you wanna get one up on me you gotta keep both eyes open.” He levelled him with a look. “Happy called me in a flap to see if I could action a pick up and I told him I wasn’t running a damned Uber service. And then one of them went missing so I put two and two together and looks like I came up with four” He paused and shrugged, smirking a little “Plus, you forgot to wipe the mission log.”

“Damned it Tin Man!” Sam shoved Bucky “You dick, I told you!”

As the two men began to squabble Fury raised his eyebrows and turned to Steve and then Katie, a small smile flickered across his face “Nova, Cap. Long-time no see.”

“Hi Nick.” Steve smiled, reaching out and shaking his hand.

Fury jerked his head as Katie shook his hand, his eyes roving over each of their kids in turn. “I’ll say. You’ve been busy I see.”

Katie gave a huff “One way of putting it.”

Nick arched an eyebrow before he sighed and turned to Bucky and Sam who were still bickering. “Imma let this one slide.” He spoke loudly, the two men instantly turning to face him. “But only because it’s the holidays and I’m in a good mood.”

“You know technically Stark Industries owns half those jets. Tony paid for and designed a lot of the tech on them after all.” Katie quipped and Nick looked at her, before he let out a laugh.

“You’re more like your brother than you’ll ever care to admit” he shook his head as she snorted, pointing at her.

“Worse people to be like.” She smiled fondly, and Fury gave one last scoff before he turned to Sam and Bucky.

“I’ll see you two later. Now, imma go get me some churros then split.” He looked back at them all “Merry Christmas.”

As they all waved him off, watching the curious glances he attracted as he strode towards the hot food stand and then Harry tugged on Steve’s sleeve, causing him to turn his attention from Fury to the little boy.

“Daddy, who’s the pirate?” Harry asked.

There was a pause before Katie burst out laughing, Steve following suite as they both shared a knowing glance, remembering Tony’s fond little nickname for their one time director.

The Goth Pirate.

“He’s an old friend of mine and your momma’s “Steve explained before he glanced up, not surprised to find that once more Fury had disappeared from sight. “We haven’t seen him in a while. And I doubt we will again for a long time.”

There were more hugs shared and after another final thank you to Sam and Bucky, Katie demanding they come over later for drinks, the four remaining adults and four kids all headed into the farm and the chaos began as they began to scout for their perfect trees.

“So we need two large ones.” Katie spoke, “And one for Emmy and Pete in the Cabin and a smaller one for Rori’s room.” she paused “Jamie, did you want one for your room too?”

“Nah, it’s okay.” He shook his head “Thanks though.”

“So four over all.” Steve nodded. “Okay gang, let’s find us some trees.”

They decided to get Rori’s first as it would be smaller and easier to carry once they’d picked it. They set about walking down the various aisles, and before long the jokes started flowing and they were getting worse and worse with time.

“What would you get if you ate the Christmas decorations?” Pete asked and Jamie looked at him, arching a brow. “Tinselitis.”

“Oh God.” Emmy snorted “That’s as bad as one of dad’s”

“Which reminds me.” Steve said, a smirk on his face, “Did you guys hear the forecast for Christmas eve? They’re predicting rain, deer…”

Katie and Emmy both let out a groan as Jamie and Peter howled with laughter.

“What do you call an elf that runs away from Santa’s workshop?” Jamie asked and Steve paused before he shrugged.

“No idea.”

“A rebel without a Clause…”

Katie, Steve, Emmy and Pete burst out laughing as Pete held out his hand to hi-five him. Jamie grinned.

“That’s a good one buddy.” Steve chuckled. “Where did you hear that?”

“Moo text me before.” He smiled “She said her and Auntie Pep had been googling them to put in their cards this year.”

“Like Father like daughter.” Katie smiled to herself, a little nostalgically as a memory of her brother crashed over her and Steve pulled her a little closer, his hand tightening on hers as he dropped a kiss to her head.

After half an hour or so of scouting and plenty of excited shouts and laughter, Rori paused in front of a tree that was the same height as her and she gave a gasp.

“Daddy, that one.” She pointed.

“You sure?” he cocked his head to one side. The tree was leaning to one side, the branches completely uneven, sticking out at all angles and the top was bent. “It’s a bit-”

“It’s perfect.” Rori insisted.

“Okay Princess, whatever you say.”  He looked at Katie as she smiled, her hand dropping to the back of Rori’s head. “Jamie, you got the saw?”

“Yup.” Jamie nodded, passing it over and they all watched as Steve gripped the trunk of the small tree with one hand a little higher up and began to cut it towards the bottom. He could have easily snapped the trunk with his bare hands but he played the part and in four strong swipes it pulled free with a little crack and Rori gave a shriek and clapped her hands.

“I love it!”

Once the safety cover was back on the saw they continued their search, walking towards the slightly bigger trees they spotted and Katie paused in front of a large, Norwegian spruce and reached out, gently crushing one of the needles between her fingers. She took a sniff and stepped back, nodding.

“That one.”

“I still can’t believe you pick them with the smell.” Steve shook his head.

“It’s not all the smell.” She protested “There’s a lot to consider. The height, width and spacing of the branches…this one’s just right for the corner in the lounge. And that one two down will do for the hallway.”

Steve chuckled, knowing better than to argue. “Positive?”

Katie nodded and once more Jamie passed him the saw. This time they all stepped back as Steve crouched down on the ground, expertly cutting the trunk and just the right place. As he took the final swipe, the tree pitched over to a loud shout of “Timberrrrr” from Jamie and Peter and it landed with a thud.

Harry gave a loud cackle and clapped, Flossie shrieking too as Steve then moved two down and repeated the action with a slightly smaller one that would sit in the entrance lounge directly in front of the photo of the pair of them at their wedding, so it would be the first thing anyone saw as they walked into the house.

Emmy strode past the tree to one that was behind it and then nodded to Pete “I think this one will do. I kinda like the way it fans out at the bottom.”

“Sure, Em.” He smiled “Mr R?”

“Oh, here.” Steve handed him the saw and watched as Pete cut his and Emmy’s first Christmas tree down, his arm round Katie’s waist, lips softly kissing Flossie’s cheek as the baby grinned. He arched an eyebrow as Emmy pressed a kiss to Pete’s lips, giving a soft huff as Katie dug him in the ribs, shooting him a warning glance which he returned with an innocent one of his own.

“Well, that was easy.” Emmy commented “It took us 2 hours last year.”

“They need to be right.” Katie shrugged simply, Steve and Emmy exchanging a look before Steve watched as Pete hoisted his tree easily onto his shoulder. It still surprised Steve how strong Peter was, even though it shouldn’t, he knew he was enhanced after all.

“I’ll take Rori’s, Dad.” Jamie stepped forwards, puffing his chest out a little, picking the smaller tree up easily and placing it on his shoulder, in an identical manner to Pete. Steve actively fought the urge to laugh as Jamie began to walk besides Peter and Emmy, clearly proud as punch at being able to help before he turned to Katie.

“Don’t say it.”

Katie laughed “Oh I’m gonna.” she smirked “If he was any more like you I’d be convinced he was a clone.”

Steve snorted as he bent down and easily lifted their two trees onto his shoulders, before they followed a little slower due to Harry being with them. Steve maneuvered around the other tree pickers as they went, his boot clad feet traipsing on the damp of the ground as they made their way back towards the main entrance and joined Pete, Emmy and Jamie at the place ready to pay. As the various helpers, all dressed in little Elf outfits bustled around to wrap their trees and strap them to the roof of the Audi, Katie was suddenly struck with a little problem.

“Hang on.” she turned to Emmy as she thanked the man who’d been dealing with and handed over the cash. “How are you two gonna get home if Bucky and Sam left?”

At that Pete gave a little grin and pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, “Mr Wilson let me borrow his Chevvy.”

“Yeah they went home on Buck’s bike.” Emmy shrugged and at that Steve let out a huge laugh.

“What?” Katie asked.

“Sorry, I’m just picturing those two riding pillion.” He snorted “I give it five minutes before Sam ended up tells Buck to let him off on account of him driving his Ducatti like a maniac.”

“You’ve no room to talk.” Katie scoffed and Steve looked at her with mock outrage.

“Mom?” Jamie asked and Katie turned to him “Can we get a drink now please?”

“Sure, come on.” She smiled and they headed over to the stall. She purchased a hot cider each for her, Steve, Emmy and Pete before hot chocolate for each of the kids along with a selection of donuts, churros and Stollen as Steve took Flossie back to the car so they could pop her in the stroller. They made their way over to one of the benches by the side and sat down and Steve returned, parking Flossie besides them before he handed her a piece of a donut and slipped his arm round Katie, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She beamed, before she glanced over at the other side of the bench. Jamie was settled to Emmy’s left, talking to her about school, as she nodded along whilst Rori was perched on Peter’s knee as she animatedly told him about how she was going to decorate her tree in unicorn colours. Harry meanwhile sat in between both Pete and Emmy, his little frame chewing on a donut as he grinned at his parents who smiled back. Katie turned to look a Steve again, leaning up to kiss him softly “It’s been perfect, thank you for making sure we were all together.”

“Well it wouldn’t be a Rogers Christmas otherwise would it?” he smiled, kissing her again.

“Get a room.” Emmy grumbled and Steve turned to her as she smirked, shoving a piece of donut in her mouth.

“Watch it young lady.” Steve pointed at her.                      

“Daddy.” Rori asked “Can I go with Pete in their car to Target? I need decorations for my Princess Tree.”

Steve hesitated for a while and Pete hastily cut in “It’s no bother Mr Rogers.”

“Yeah we need some for ours.” Emmy nodded.”So we’re going anyway.”

“I come too?” Harry asked hopefully and Emmy shrugged

“If Momma and Daddy say it’s ok, course you can, squirt.”

Steve looked at Katie who shrugged “Fine by me. Sure you can manage them?”

Emmy rolled her eyes “They’re no bother.” She then turned to Jamie “You wanna come too?”

“Hell no.” he said hastily, peering round at Rori before he shook his head “I’m going home for some peace and quiet.”

Both Steve and Katie let out a loud laugh, as Katie shook her head “Oh Jamie.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Nothing pal.” Steve smiled, reaching for his cider. “Nothing at all.”

[lothioriien]

richie tozier and his zoomer teen: headcanons

A/N: I tried keeping this as gender neutral as possible, but idk it’s a lil implied that the kid’s a girl. i’m trying to learn how to write gender neutral stuff :”)

By teenager, I mean around 16-17! High school age!!

Enjoy!

Sometime in the early 2000s, famous comedian Richard Tozier went to a party and came home with a woman.

oh yeah they deffo got it on that night

But that was a one night stand kind of thing, and Richie didn’t have any contact with her until about a year later.

He got up the couch one early evening to the ringing of his doorbell, and found a basket and a bag filled with baby food, diapers, and clothes perched on his doorstep

And in the basket? A small child, an apology note from the mother, and a birth certificate with his name listed as the father.

Oh boy did his life completely change after that.

It was him and the child, against the world.

but let’s skip the details on him struggling to take care of an infant first and move on a bit to when the kid’s older.

You, of course, are the baby that was left on his doorstep, and Richie tried to be the best father he could be despite his touring career as a comedian.

He’d bring you to the shows, even if you didn’t understand a thing that went on, though eventually when you’d help him write some material when you were older.

Constantly touring with him as a kid meant you were homeschooled. But that didn’t stop you from having a social life. You’d be friends with a lot of his fellow comedians, and John Mulaney was your ultimate favorite friend of his.

you just loved the very tall and gangly twelve year old looking man named uncle john.

Your academic life though was not too bad. You’re pretty intelligent, but when it came to maths, oh boy.

As a kid, you’d ask Richie constantly about math. He’d hate the school curriculum you had because math was different back when he was younger. He’d always help you, but it was mostly the internet just teaching you both.

You’d introduce him to vines (through iconic vine compilation videos), but mostly because he was so confused with this new language you were speaking.

Eventually he’d say some vines back to you and it’d come off so weird cause he’s a 40 year old white dad. You love him, nonetheless, and appreciate the effort

A lot of your instagram stories or snapchat stories are you filming him as you sing “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

He found it cute at first, where he would smile at you hiding behind your phone and hug you after cause dang he loves his kid so much and would die for you

then later, he’s evidently so annoyed because you do it constantly. As in he takes off his glasses, puts his head in his hands and just sighs so loudly.

When tiktok became the new vine, you were on the app every single day, making it a goal of yours to become tiktok famous.

You’d force your dad to do tiktoks with you

“I love my daddy. he is my superhero”

“Famous relative check!”

BUT THE PERFECT AUDIO

“Don’t look at me like that.” “YOU’RE MY DAD. BOOGIEWOOGIEWOOGIE!”

Gaining some clout because he is a pretty famous comedian 👀

Saying “ok boomer�� to him when he’d annoy you

But then he’d clap back by being like “What the fuck Y/N. I was born in 1976, i’m not that old.”

“Yeah but sometimes you think like a boomer.”

“Ok, zoomer.”

“Dad. No. Get out.”

He’s really chill with you swearing. You definitely got that habit from him.

“What the actual fuck, Richard.”

“At least have the fucking decency to call me dad, Y/N.”

He got you into video games at a young age. Every time there was a new console or a new interesting game out, you’d both be up early to go out and get the said console/game.

And in each game you’d play, there would be hilarious commentary.

it’s basically that video with bill hader playing god of war with conan but imagine that and a zoomer’s feral energy combined.

He also got you into becoming a cinephile. Though unlike him, you read the books before watching the movie.

Marathoning a bunch of tv series together and you can never watch any new episode without him. Friday nights were reserved especially for it.

Richie can’t fucking cook for the life of him. Growing up, it was always take out, pizza, instant noodles, or mac and cheese.

He tried learning how to cook, he really did. But it was just so bad that eventually you’d learn how to do it. Then you’d try to teach him how too.

But did he get better as a cook?? Not really.

He once accidentaly set almost the whole kitchen on fire when he tried making pasta when you were 15.

“DAD, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PUT WATER IN THE POT FOR PASTA.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU!”

“I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT PLEASE DON’T EVER TRY TO COOK AGAIN.”

The following morning, he got up and learned how to make pancakes with sausages, bacon, and eggs.

It was damn good, and by far the best thing he ever made.

So his pancakes became a regular thing.

On casual dinner nights at home, he’d let you have a drink with him and be drinking buddies. He taught you how to drink and be safe with drinks (cause we stan a protective father amirite)

Speaking of protective father, he’d be so picky and open about the people you’d date

“Really Y/N? That person? They’re fucking trash and you know it. You deserve better, sweetie.”

“But dad. They’re hot.”

“That’s still a no from me, kiddo.”

Having the most random, yet somehow meaningful conversations with Richie, yet roasting him at the same time.

“Y/N, do you think I would be classified as a papi by people.”

“No. You still wear hawaiian shirts over a t-shirt. You’re too tacky for that. You’re a papa, not a papi.”

But somehow, you also adopt his fashion style?

Cause hawaiian shirts are pretty cool? Very John Deacon ala 80s aesthetic?

And then he roasts you back from the time you called him tacky.

“Respect the drip, Richard.”

Even though you always poke fun at each other, you guys are actually so open with each other and just talk about anything and everything.

Oh no when you first got your period, he was panicking and nearly bought the entire aisle of pads and tampons because he was so clueless

Meeting the Losers Club was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t know what to expect of them or what they’d expect from you.

You clung to your dad the whole time, watching him reunite with his childhood friends. Each one of them had a look of surprise and confusion the moment they laid their eyes on you.

They found you to be like a mini-me of Richie, as both of you were clad in printed/hawaiian shirts and glasses.

“Jeez, Richie. Why’d you decide to bring a fucking clone of yourself?” asked Eddie.

“That’s my kid, you dumbass! Eddie, this is Y/N.”

“No shit, you have a kid! You got married, dipshit?”

“No, uh, it’s just them and me.”

You decided to butt in jokingly, “Joe was in the picture for a while too,”

“Joe? Who the fuck is Joe?” The minute Eddie asked this, Richie knew what was coming next.

“Joe mama.” Thus receving a high five from your father and a groan from Eddie.

at first, everyone else would not believe Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier had his very own kid, but the minute you started to get comfortable and joke around, it really clicked for them.

“There’s no doubt they’re Richie’s kid. Look at them! They’re basically a carbon copy of him!” Eddie would have exclaimed.

You‘re very liberal and open-minded, supporting the LGBT+ community and such, but you didn’t really know Richie’s stance on it.

Perhaps it was because he’d been surpressing his feelings for a specific boy from his childhood for almost his entire life, and he didn’t really talk about that topic so much.

But when you saw the chemistry between your dad and Uncle Eds, you sensed a little something there on both ends.

always saying a specific vine under your breath when you see them “two bros, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay” (thank you to for this hc)

OKAY UNCLE EDS LIVES IN THIS AND HE’S DEFFO A BIG PART OF YOUR LIFE AFTER ONE SPECIAL TRIP TO DERRY, MAINE.

You’d say the vine so much, Richie eventually heard it and pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I- how did you know?”

“Know what dad?”

It took a little while for him to come up with the proper words to say. How was he gonna break this to you?

“Y/N..honey, I’ve had feelings for your Uncle Eds ever since we were kids. I-i don’t know, it really scared me as a kid to feel that way so I never talked about it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, kiddo, I’m gay.”

“Huh? I thought you were American?”

the man was basically on the verge of tears. He was so tense, he almost forgot to breathe. But the moment you hugged him and told him that it’s okay, that you love him so much, and that you’re so proud of him, he wrapped you in the biggest bear hug and cried. You cried too.

A/N: Imma end it here for now :)

So sorry it took forever!! I hope you enjoyed!!

Let me know if you want a part 2! 🤪

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

stay

Rocket Raccoon x Gender-Neutral Reader

Requested by: @b-oys-do-c-ry​

Summary: after the events of endgame, you’ve tried to settle back into life with the guardians, but feel the need to return home to your family and help them adjust to the new reality. rocket catches you packing.

Characters: rocket raccoon, reader, mentions of other guardians

Warnings: the relationship is understandably platonic. only warning is for mild adult language and angst

Word Count: 2,380

MARVEL MASTERLIST or CHECK OUT MY FANFIC DEDICATED BLOG

One of the side effects of living with five other ‘people’ on a ship with only three bunks – one of which was actually a converted storage space – was that you didn’t have a lot of space to call your own. Sharing a room with Drax, Mantis and Nebula meant that you really only kept the essentials, along with a few sentimental knick-knacks you’d picked up both back on Terra and in ports across the galaxy. On the bright side, that meant that the phrase ‘packing a bag’ could be taken quite literally. Almost everything you owned fit in a single duffel bag.

“What’re you doin’?”

You jumped slightly as a voice sounded behind you, a mix of confusion and amusement coloring his tone. Turning from the bag on your bunk, you offered an awkward shrug of one shoulder to Rocket. He was standing in the doorway, arms folded over his chest and an eyebrow cocked.

It was amazing that after everything that happened with Thanos, you’d been brought back into existence and Rocket still seemed for the most part, the same gruff, smart-mouthed guy you’d bonded with when you’d first joined the crew.  There were a few greyer hairs around his muzzle now, and sometimes he seemed more tired than anything else, but otherwise, he just seemed happy to have you all back.

“Nothing. What’s up?”

“You’re missin’ dinner.”

“And you came all the way to the other end of the ship to tell me that?” you joked, mirroring his posture. You smirked jovially down at him. “I’m touched, man.”

“Shut ya mouth,” he groused back at you despite the beginnings of a smirk of his own on his face. You laughed despite your unease at being caught out, shaking your head. “Groot’s fussin’ about you not bein’ there.”

“Sure, he is,” you replied snidely, smile widening. It was unlikely that Groot had even raised his head from his game long enough to realize you weren’t there. “That’s why he’s here bugging me instead of you.”

“Watch it, humie. You can’t be butt ugly and friendless.”

“Ah, there’s the Rocket I know and love.” you teased. “And please, you know I’m gorgeous.”

He snickered, nodding almost absentmindedly. “Yeah, yeah. Ego like that and you’ll be putting Quill to shame in no time.”

“Oh, shudder the thought.” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. You turned back to your bed, speaking over your shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself, Rock. I promise, you’ll never see me getting into a pissing contest with a Norse God.”

“Because you’re leavin’?”

You stopped, hands hovering over your bag. You closed your eyes for a moment, exhaling a long sigh through your nose. You had tried so hard to do this quietly.

The last thing you wanted was the crew fussing over your decision or trying to get you to change your mind. You didn’t get a lot of privacy or time alone between ports, but you’d figured that the notion of a hot meal would be enticing enough to the rest of the crew to grant you at least twenty minutes in which to pack your bag. You’d barely made it more than five.

You’d told Quill. Two weeks ago, you’d found him alone, pouring over the screens that held the scans he hoped would lead you to Gamora. The new Gamora… an old Gamora. The Gamora that didn’t know you yet. It had taken him a while to comprehend what you were saying, to pull himself out of his thoughts long enough to understand. He’d tried to convince you to stay, tried to tell you what he thought you needed to hear, but he’d finally agreed all the same. You were to get off in a couple of days when you were Terra-side again. He’d agreed not to tell the others – it was your business to share.

Honestly, part of you was sure it would have been anyone but the anti-social Rocket to come looking for you… but maybe another part of you wasn’t so surprised by it at all. He’d been more attentive since the second snap, more concerned. Of course, he’d shake you off with an insult and a scoff if you pointed that out.

“Damn it,” you breathed quietly, turning around and fixing him with your best attempt at incredulity. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re packin’ a bag, Y/N.” he said pointedly, nodding his head toward the bed behind you.

“Maybe I’m just… reorganizing.”

“Into a bag.”

“It’s a… system. Keeps everything in one, easy to access place.”

“So does your locker,” he pointed out, gesturing under your bed.

“Well, only if you want to get all… logical about it,” you admitted in a childish grumble. When his only response was to lean against the edge of the doorway and give you an exasperated look, you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You sat on the edge of your bunk, shoving your bag to the end of it. “How many of you did Quill tell?”

Rocket’s expression turned offense. “So, you are leavin’.”

“Ah, shit.”

“And you told Quill, but not—not the rest of us?”

“I, uh… well, yeah?” you tried for a humored smile. It curled the side of your lips awkwardly. This whole conversation was making you way too uncomfortable. You didn’t do emotional confrontation. A gunfight on some random planet all in the name of the adventures of the Guardians of the Galaxy, sure. But talking about your feelings? There was a reason you got along so well with every other emotionally constipated crew member on this damn ship. “I needed him to steer the ship in the right direction. Did you think we were going back to Terra because we’re already out of mac and cheese?”

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growled, clearly unamused by your attempt at humor. “You’re leavin’ and you weren’t even gonna tell us?”

“Of course, I was!” you protested. “Just… figured I’d wait.”

“’til when exactly?”

“…until it was time to get back on the ship?” you said, almost hopefully. Rocket rolled his eyes disparagingly, fixing you with a long look. The cold disappointment… the betrayal… in his eyes made your blood freeze, and he shook his head as he turned away. You called after him as he left. “Rocket. Rocket, c’mon, man—I just…”

You fell back onto your bed with a huff, staring at your ceiling. “Goddamn it.”

***

Two days. It had been a bit over forty-eight hours and Rocket still wasn’t talking to you. Sure, he wasn’t the most sociable guy on the ship to begin with, but this was different. This was cold.

The two of you usually exchanged good-natured, sarcastic barbs as easy as breathing, only to round on whoever told you to shut up first together. It was fun, easy, and something you never really thought about – your friendship with Rocket was always something you didn’t really have to think about – it was reactionary. So, to be thinking about it now… you’d been completely lost at what to do for the last two days.

He didn’t talk to you, and when he absolutely had to, it was curt. The sarcasm he still flung your way under his breath didn’t hold the same humor. More than once, Quill and Mantis had cast you questioning glance at the change in his attitude towards you, but all you could do was shrug. You weren’t even completely sure as to why he was acting this way; you were friends, sure, but it was Rocket. He wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type.

“Hey, Rock.”

He didn’t react to your entrance other than a small flick of his ear in your direction. He was on the late shift piloting the ship back to Terra, and you’d spent the last four hours staring at the ceiling of your bunk, sleep unwilling to take you. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, pulled on a jacket and your boots against the cold of the ship, and headed for the cockpit. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to him without interruption he left the room whenever someone else entered.

“Are you really giving me the silent treatment here, man?” you asked after a few moments, exasperated. You moved to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, pulling your jacket more tightly around yourself. “C’mon, Rocket. Seriously.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the sky. “I’m busy, Y/N.”

You followed his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, I’d hate to distract you from this completely empty expanse of space we’re travelling through right now.”

He sighed at your sarcasm, giving you a sidelong, exasperated look of his own. “What’re you doin’ here, Y/N?”

“Right now?” you replied. “Right now, I’m just amazed you’ve managed to string more than two words together in my presence.”

“Just…” he paused, shaking his head as he searched for the words. You felt your stomach twist at the seeming uncertainty you could see in him; this was different. Rocket didn’t consider what he said; no, he’d just shoot back with whatever first came to mind, consequences be damned. For all his faults, he always seemed so certain of what he meant when he spoke, even if it was just a quick insult or a jibe. This wasn’t that. “Just… what do you want?”

“I want you to talk to me, Rocket.” you said. “Like before.”

“Why bother?” he shrugged, his voice gruff. He was back to refusing to look at you. “You ain’t gonna be around much longer, anyway.”

You sighed, fixing your eyes on the wide, black emptiness in front of you. That view used to excite you, a promise of adventure. Ever since the snap, it just felt… cold. “Look, I… I gotta go home, Rocket. They need me there. Everyone being back… it’s more complicated than we thought it would be. But… but me leaving, it’s not a big deal.”

“Sure, it’s not.”

“Dude,” you bristled at his tone despite yourself. “Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re pissed at me!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in annoyance. You stuttered over your words for a moment, lost, before standing and shrugging dramatically. “Look, just forget about it, Rocket. I don’t know why I bothered coming up here in the first place; why the hell would I ever expect you to actually fucking talk to me instead of just being a complete dick about this.”

It wasn’t until you were stepping back onto the ladder to leave that he spoke again, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. He was still sitting in the pilot’s chair, his eyes still on the stars. “Don’t.”

You stopped short, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t…” he exhaled slowly, a steadying breath. “Don’t go.”

Your brow creased, and you moved slowly back towards his seat until you could see his face again. He looked embarrassed at speaking up, his ears drooping back. In fact, you were almost certain that under all that fur there could be a blush burning in his cheeks.

“Why not?”

“Be… because… ah, fuck…” he muttered to himself, a paw rubbing almost nervously at the fur on the side of his neck. “Because we… we need you here.”

“You… no, you don’t.”

Rocket finally turned to look at you, incredulity in his eyes. “We don’t? What about Groot?”

You paused, pressing your lips together as your stomach dropped. You loved the plant, you’d helped to raise him, and leaving him behind was one of the hardest things you were facing right now. Leaving any one member of the crew behind was going to be hard, but Groot… he was still a kid. “He’ll… he’ll be fine. He’s got all of you here, and he probably… he probably won’t even realize that I’m gone.”

Rocket raised an eyebrow at you. “Really? You think he’s an idiot?”

“No! I think he’d have to get his head out of that goddamn gaming device for more than thirty seconds to realize I wasn’t around?” you shot back in frustration. “Is that what this is about? You think you’ll have to look after him by yourself if I’m not around? Are you seriously pissed at me because you’re losing a babysitter?!”

“I’m pissed because you’re leaving me!” he shouted, the intensity in his voice surprising the both of you. He seemed to realize he’d admitted something he hadn’t intended a few moments too late, and he rolled his eyes at himself, tugging irritably at the fur at either side of his neck.

“…Rocket?”

He growled in frustration, rubbing his paws over his eyes. When he finally spoke again, he sounded tired… weary. “Just… you have no idea. You have no idea what is was like… all of you were gone. Gone, and I was…”

He broke off with a long exhalation and a slow shake of his head, his eyes closed. When you spoke for him, you could barely bring your voice above a whisper. “Alone.”

Rocket’s breathing shook slightly, the only sound in the ship’s quiet cockpit. You moved to kneel beside his chair, your gaze beseeching. You almost reached out to touch him but thought better of it. Honestly, you weren’t sure anymore if that was still a trigger for him.

“Rocket, you’re not alone anymore. We’re all back. Just because I’m gone doesn’t mean the others will be too. You’ll still have Groot and Quill and Nebula… everyone else will still be here. You’re not going to be alone; is that what this is all about?”

He sighed, opening his eyes. “It don’t matter. You go, that’s one more time, one more person I’ve got to mourn. And I don’t think I’ve got it in me to do it again.”

“Rock…” you murmured. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, and you could see them in his. You steadied yourself, wetting your lips. “I need to go home.”

He turned to face you, his jaw set. “Then don’t stay.”

“What?”

“Come back. Don’t stay on Terra.”

“I don’t…”

“Please.”

You stopped short; you didn’t think that in all the time you’d ever heard Rocket say ‘please’.

And that was, suddenly, all that it took.

“Okay.”

.

.

.

tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @spacesuitsforemergency @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen​ @dragon-chica​

[heyitsani]

Feel the Adrenaline Moving

Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 1

Word Count: 2494

Rating: Teen and Up

Warnings: Robincest (obviously even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of gunshot wound, mentions of past child abuse by a bad parent

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Food Truck Owner!Jason and Police Officer!Dick have spent the last couple of months flirting with each other the few times a week Dick orders food from Jason's food truck. When they finally decide to go on a date and Dick stands him up, Jason is left wondering if he had been wrong about the other man all along.

Notes: This idea stemmed from the idea of a no capes AU where Jason owns a food truck with Artemis and Dick is a GPD officer who is obsessed with his food.  Dick and Tim were both adopted by Bruce and Damian is still his son through Talia, a failed relationship years prior where she never told him she was pregnant.  I have not introduced the other members of the batfam (though Babs is an exception because she’s mentioned as an ex and still friend in the current installment I’m working on), but have their introductions to the story already planned out.  

Jason is softer in this AU because while he has some childhood trauma, it’s not nearly as bad as his canonical trauma.  So I’ve been exploring the side of him that could have been, if you get what I mean.

Also, if you do not like the pairing then just move along.  Or block me.  I can and will block any rude or hateful comments.  I have both traditional and nontraditional siblings and don’t need to hear about how I don’t support adoptive families.  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.  Just because I write murder doesn’t mean I support murder.  Capisce?  Good.

You can also read this on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is stupid.  How do we even know this is the right truck?”

“Don’t play stupid, Harper.  He was extremely specific.  Egg rolls made with things like bacon mac or Reubens.  Hot guy, dark hair, white streak in front, and arms to die for.  This is obviously him.”

Jason raised an eyebrow at the two arguing redheads, curious why they were looking for him and his truck.  Thankfully, the rush had passed and now it would just be the stragglers until they closed up shop for the day.

The pair turned to face the order window to find Jason there, arms folded on the counter and an amused smirk on his face.

“Jason?”

“So it would appear.  That was an oddly specific description.  Can I help you guys?”  He watched the pair exchange a look before the more rugged looking of the two stepped forward.

“We’re here because of Dick.”  And of all the scenarios running through his head, Dick had not been involved in any of them.

“I see,” Jason said sharply, smirk fading to a scowl.  “He has made his point perfectly clear without sending his harem of redheads to clarify.”

“What point?”

“Harem of redheads?”  But Jason just raised an eyebrow.

“Ah fuck, Wally.  Dick was right.”  The man looked to Wally and then back to Jason.  “Look, I’m Roy Harper and this is Wally West.  Dickie is our best friend and whatever point you think he’s making, he’s not.  Trust me.”

“He’s in the hospital.  Got shot in the chest on the job two weeks ago and just regained consciousness yesterday,” Wally relayed, and Jason had to grip the counter to keep upright.

“He…Is he going to be okay?”  And wow did he feel like an ass.

“Yeah.  Doctors said maybe two more days before he can go home.  It was bad there for a while but they kept him in the medically induced coma so he could heal without his usual bullshit of getting up too early.  But look,” Roy crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at Jason, “You need to come to Gotham General.  Once he was fully awake, he started freaking out about you.  Something about a date, missed calls and texts, and you hating him.”

“Jesus, Roy.  Dickie said to just tell him what happened.  Not to guilt the guy into a visit.”  Wally smacked Roy’s upper arm with the back of his hand.  “Though, yeah,” he turned back to Jason, “Dick would probably weep tears of joy if you showed up.  He was pretty wrecked.”

Jason wasn’t quite sure what to say, still working the fact that Dick had been shot and hadn’t just ditched him.  He had spent the last two weeks wondering what it was he had done.  He had gone over that last in-person interaction and the text message thread, wracking his brain for any kind of hint.  And the first week had tried to text and call but had been met with silence.  So, the past week he had convinced himself that Dick had just been fucking with him all along and never meant any of it.  Now he was hearing the other man had nearly died and Jason had been the ass who had thought the man was just ghosting him.

“Did we break him?”

“Shut it, West.  Look man, he’s in room 212 at GG.  Give us a last name to go with Jason and we’ll put you on the visitor’s list.”

“Visitor’s list?”

“Comes with being Bruce Wayne’s son.”  Jason gave Wally a weird look.

“His last name is Grayson…?”

“Yeah, but Bruce adopted him.  Took him in after-“ Roy covered Wally’s mouth with his hand and glared at the other man.

“Shut the fuck up, West,” Roy growled and hell if that didn’t just pique Jason’s interest.  “Now give us an order of whatever is Dickhead’s favorite so we can get a smile on his pathetic face.”  Jason stood frozen for a moment before waving away Roy’s credit card and hanging the closed sign.  He quickly whipped up an order of the bacon mac ‘n cheese rolls and an order of churros before bagging it all up.

“My last name is Todd.  Get me on the list,” Jason said as he stepped out of the truck and handed the bag of food over.  “I gotta clean this shit up because hazard and all that, but I’ll come by after I’m done.”

“Good,” was all Roy said as he grabbed the bag and turned to leave.

“Nice to meet you man!  See you around, hopefully,” Wally called out as Roy grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

Jason wasn’t sure what he had been expecting once he finally got to Dick’s room at the hospital, but a fancy and very private suite was not it.  And even less than that, a fifteen or sixteen-year-old kid fussing over Dick while Dick just smiled at the kid fondly. 

“Dames, stop,” Dick laughed softly, reaching out to stop the kid from messing with the pillows again.  “I’m good.  Just go meet Jon already.”

“Tt,” the kid responded before turning to grab his bag from the chair next to Dick’s bag.  When he tensed all over, Jason knew he had been spotted.  “Who the hell are you?  This is supposed to be a private room, not some free for all.”  Wow. 

“Jason,” Dick’s surprised voice cut in.  Jason looked from the kid to Dick and practically melted at the look on his face.  Surprised, yes, but the warmth was there and god if Jason didn’t want to just cross the room and press his lips to the other mans.

“Dick, I’m so glad you’re okay.”  He took two steps into the room before the kid was standing in front of him, almost the same height as him but much leaner compared to Jason’s bulk.  Raising a brow, Jason stared the kid down and waited. 

“Dami, stop.  This is Jason, my friend who owns the food truck.”  The kid didn’t move or acknowledge Dick’s words.  “Damian, knock it off.”  Authority slipped into Dick’s tone and Jason wanted to smirk in victory when Damian tensed but backed off.  “Jon is waiting,” Dick reminded him gently and with a grunt and one last glare sent to Jason, Damian was storming out of the room.

“Fun kid,” Jason commented, looking back toward the door before closing the rest of the space between him and Dick’s bedside.  “Jesus, Dick.  I almost dropped when Roy and Wally told me what happened.  I’m so fucking glad you’re okay.”

“They didn’t guilt you into coming here, did they?  They can be a bit much at the same time when you don’t know them.”  Shaking his head, Jason tugged the chair closer to the bed and sat down.  Without allowing himself to overthink it, he grabbed Dick’s hand in his and held it with both of his.  The smile he got in return was well worth it.

“Nah, they just told me what happened.  Said you’d like it if I stopped by and asked for my last name.”  Dick nodded and sunk a little deeper into the pillows piled up behind him.  “So, Damian is your…?”

“Oh.  Brother.  I know those idiots let slip that Bruce Wayne is my adoptive father, but Damian is Bruce’s only actual blood son.  Tim and I were both adopted after our parents died.”  Jason wanted to know more about that, but the look on Dick’s face told him he wasn’t quite ready to let him in on that darkness.

“He’s a very intense kid.  How old is he?”

“Sixteen going on sixty,” Dick laughed.  “He’s a good kid, despite the glare and protectiveness.  He didn’t have the easiest beginning.  B didn’t even know about him until he was eight.  Lesson learned: protection is never a guarantee.”  Jason laughed at that and shook his head.

“So, his mom was not a good parent?”

“The only person worse than her was her father.”  Dick’s face turned from amused to angry faster than Jason realized he could and he was surprised at the fire there.  “When LA Social Services called and told Bruce about Damian, he was…it was bad.”  Jason squeezed Dick’s hand and the other man gave him a thankful smile.  “Tim and I came from homes that knew love.  Damian, I don’t think he had ever known love of any kind until he came to Gotham.”

“Poor kid.”  Dick nodded sadly.  “But he seemed pretty fond of you in the few seconds before he noticed me.”

“Yeah,” Dick agreed, and the smile was back on his face.  “Bruce is a great man and a good father, but he’s not the most emotionally available man.  He struggled with Damian when he came to live with him.  Tim was a teenager already and I had moved out on my own, so B was pretty much on his own.  But then he called me one night and begged me to help because he didn’t know if he was just screwing up Damian more than he already was.”

Well, fuck.  How shitty was it that a man could tell he was not the best option for his own child’s mental and emotional health but that his older son was?  Jason couldn’t imagine feeling so poorly about himself and that said something because he didn’t like himself most days.

“I moved back home and took a sabbatical from work in order to help.  It was hard and there were plenty of times I would shut myself in my room and ask what the hell I was trying to accomplish, but Damian eventually improved.”  Letting out a sigh, Dick looked down at Jason with a hint of sadness.  “I think sometimes B wishes he hadn’t called me in.  He and Dami…they’re not close.  They respect each other, and B loves him like he loves Tim and me, but when Dami does something to be proud of it’s me who he comes to.”

“He views you as a father more than his actual father.”  Dick hummed and looked over toward the window, avoiding commenting on it.  “Is that a point of contention between you and Bruce?”

“Not really, at least not that he allows it to be.  But like I said, he’s not good with the emotions.  Its just, sometimes I can see regret so plainly written on his face when I’m talking to Dami.  It’s hard to miss sometimes.”

“And that makes you feel guilty.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah…”  Dick’s voice is quiet, but Jason knows him well enough now to hear the regret.

“Have you talked to Damian about it before?”  Dick shook his head and looked back to Jason with a curious look.  “I was just wondering what he thought of it all.”

Jason can tell Dick is mulling over the idea of asking Damian about the fact that he viewed Dick as his dad and not Bruce, but he can also see the moment when Dick rejects the idea for now.  Not that Jason blames him.  The kid had been intense, and he had come across as smart, so part of him probably knew.  If it had been Jason in Damian’s place, he probably would have some resentment toward his actual father for basically pawning him off to his brother when it got to be too much.

“This was so not the conversation I thought we would have when I came,” Jason offered as an out of the current topic.  He could see the appreciation in Dick’s smile and the slight shift of his shoulders as he relaxed.

“What did you expect?”

“Profuse apologies because your redheads had made it seem like you were pretty worried that I hated you.”  Dick laughed hard, holding his middle where Jason assumed were some of the wounds that had caused this whole mess.

“They made it clear that you weren’t mad.  I figured I could save the apologies for when I wasn’t laid up in the hospital.”

“Fair enough.  Though,” Jason leaned forward and looked at Dick closely, “you don’t owe me any apologies.  This situation isn’t anywhere near being your fault.”

“Still upset I missed our date.  I had the whole thing planned.”

“Well, you can go through with that plan when you are back to full mobility.  Until then, I’d be happy to accommodate to your situation.”  Dick’s smile was practically blinding, and Jason squeezed his hand.  The intense desire to kiss the other man hit him suddenly but not too surprisingly.  “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”  The words came out before he could stop them.

“I’d really like you to kiss me,” Dick responded, smile growing even brighter.  And Jason wished he could figure out how he managed to be so beautiful.  But he would have to try and figure that out later.  For now, he just focused on releasing Dick’s hand and pressing a palm to his cheek as he leaned forward and pressed their mouths together.

And god if it didn’t feel like coming home after being gone for years.

Dick’s lips were slightly chapped from the dry, hospital air and his breath was a little stale but the whole thing was so utterly perfect that Jason could feel his chest tighten with the emotion.  Keeping in mind his still healing chest, Jason ended the kiss sooner than he would have liked.  Pulling back, he pressed one quick kiss to the corner of Dick’s mouth before pulling back even further to look at the other man.  What he found made him want to ignore the chest wound Dick had and just dive right back in.

Dark lashes fluttering against golden cheek bones and lips parted just slightly.  He hoped he never forgot this image.

“I can’t wait until this heart rate monitor won’t alert everyone to just how much you affect me,” Dick muttered, opening his eyes to reveal sapphire rings around black pupils blown wide with lust.

“Just focus on healing that chest wound.  Then I’ll happily let you figure out just how much of me you can and can’t handle.”

“Deal,” Dick whispered, pushing up to press their mouths together one last time before falling back into the pillows again. 

Jason chuckled and ran his fingers along Dick’s cheek bone before dropping back down into the chair he had previously been sitting in and letting his hands fall into his lap.

“So, Wally and Roy aren’t my only redhead friends and the fact that you called just the two of them a harem was so accurate I thought I had pulled my stitches from laughing so hard when they told me.”  Jason looked at him for a moment before laughing loudly and shaking his head.

“Well then the name is definitely sticking around.”

“I’ll be sure to warn the others.”

And Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached for Dick’s hand again.

[chris-evans-imagine]

Forever Crush

A/n: I guess I’m a sucker for post-christmas writing, I love the holiday bubble lol. This was actually a request I loved and it took me a while to make it the way I wanted it’s long, 2500+. I hope you like it.

Request: I have a Chris Evans imagine request. It’s actually a crazy dream I had the other day. So the person is Chris’s sisters nanny for the kids, more just to keep them occupied while she is doing things around the house. Christ tries to work his Hollywood charm but doesn’t faze you. On Christmas Eve, you end up under the mistletoe with Chris. You can add more too! Thank you! I love your stuff ❤️

Warnings: long one-shot. Cursing, drinking. And fluff…

 “Mac and cheese again?” you asked to little Luca. He winked and showed that hole in his smile that made your heart melt. He was a little beau.

“I like your mac and cheese, dad’s just so… urgh!” you couldn’t agree more, that’s why he laughed when you wrinkled your nose when the memory of the organic or whatever shit it was. That was everything but mac and cheese. Of course you had discussed with Scott Luca’s diet, he had a few requests which you always considered. Except for mac and cheese.

Scott and Jeremy had been your neighbors since you got to the building, having them as neighbors was delightful and they thought the same about you since you babysat their son every once in a while.

Today was one of those days, he was in your place. Scott was supposed to pick him up by dinner, but you knew that Christmas shopping would take him way longer. That’s why the little rascal was helping you out with dinner for two.

Your phone rang interrupting your favorite song.

“It’s your dad”

“Which one?” he asked while he licked the spoon. You smiled, maybe he wasn’t biological but he had Scott’s sassiness.

“Hey” you picked up.

“Hey, doll. How are you two doing?” Scott asked.

“We’re fine, we’re about to have dinner… how’s shopping going?”

“Oh, it’s a mess, people everywhere, we haven’t finished… I just called to tell you that my brother just got to town, he’s going to pick Luca up. And tomorrow we have a dinner, we’d love you to have you there, y/n.”

“Okay, which brother?” you asked expecting not to hear certain name but since you were aware he only had one brother, you obviously knew the answer.

“Chris, duh. Hey, what are you having for dinner?”

“Just a healthy meal, baby” you sounded as sarcastic as you could be.

“Please, don’t be mac and cheese”

“It’s mac and cheese” you laughed.

“God… don’t make my boy…” you cut him out.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, hope you finish soon, say goodbye to your dad”

“Bye, daddy” Luca screamed.

“You two are killing me, bye”

Luca was such an easy weight, he was all over dinner and sleep. He was sleeping on your lap while you watched Friends, it was around 9 when the doorbell rang. You moved him softly and put a cushion on his head. His blonde straight hair spread all over.

And when you opened the door, there was another blonde.

“Hello” he gave you a half smile, the one that he could use in a photoshoot. The one he could have practiced for ages to make it as perfect and irresistible as it could be.

“Hey, Chris, Luca’s asleep.” You let him in. your door wasn’t small, that’s why you couldn’t understand how he dare to invade your personal space.

“I figured. Scott told me you had his spare key, do you mind if I go and open the door and then pick him up?”

“No, it’s fine. Wait” you left him in the living room. You were a nice person, and somehow, Chris just made you feel so small and so… boring? You didn’t like it. That was one of the reasons you tried to keep your distance. He looked so arrogant and so untouchable, you were just… done. You just didn’t need that.

You took the key from the cabinet and turned just to face a steel chest.

“I… hum, told you to wait?” you asked looking at him.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I got distracted by your Christmas decorations. It’s really nice, huh.”

“Thanks. Here’s the key”

“Thanks, beautiful.” He had that look. The one that I can strip you here and make you mine, kind of look. You were so over it.

“Stop the act, Christopher” you demanded “it’s just the two of us, dude”

“I’m not acting, I think you’re beautiful”

“How? You don’t even…” you couldn’t reach the right word.

“What?”

“Have seen me.” you murmured and started walking towards the couch.

“I have, I’ve seen plenty of you. Your hair, it’s kind of red when on the sunlight. You have a birth mark on your hand and you trace it with your fingers when you’re thinking, and you are beautiful. You’ve got a beautiful face and a beautiful ass.” You stopped and turned to look at him. You could scream but there was an infant sleeping.

“WHAT?” you articulated but didn’t scream, didn’t know if you wanted to punch him or you just wanted to laugh. Or kick your own ass.

“I’ve seen you, that’s what I mean. Maybe I went too far” he scratched his head and smiled looking at the wood floor.

“How dare you? You were just doing fine, telling me those things and you screwed it up with the last part. No, no, how dare you to look at my butt?! That’s the real question. Your nephew it’s on the couch”

“Have done it before and won’t be the last time” he smiled as big as he could, he had beaten you up on this battle.

“I hate you” you murmured while he picked up Luca. Yeah, you hated how handsome he looked with a little boy on his strong arms.

_________

“I’m telling you, I was a jerk” Chris spoke as Scott cleaned the mess his son had left.

“You usually are when you’re with her, man. Why can’t you just be… you?” Chris took a long sip of his beer. The truth was he didn’t even know how to act in front of her. That… just came.

The first time he saw her, she had curled up watching Disney movies with Luca. He had come over to visit his family, Scott opened and when Chris when straight up to look for his nephew, he was just cuddled up with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He felt jealous of a 5 years-old. She was just... different. And so was he when they had an actual conversation.

He was a jerk. He was just… not him. He felt like he needed to impress her since she wasn’t the kind of woman he usually met. He didn’t know how to reach the level of a woman like that.

He would never forget her look when she woke up. Her hair was undone, her sleepy face made her look like an angel, and he couldn’t feel more attracted to the beautiful creature that was walking towards him.

“Hello” she spoke first.

“Hey, this is my brother Chris, did Luca wake up?”

“Nice to meet you, Chris” she reached his hand and smiled, the freckles and a dimple showed. Like if it was a sky at night, with its stars and moon. “Luca’s still asleep, I think I’ll go to my place to sleep too…”

“Need any company?” The words just came out of his mouth. There was an awkward silence between Chris, y/n and Scott.

“I’m fine, thanks” she spoke. “See ya, baby” she kissed Scott’s cheek and waved goodbye to Chris, there was no way she’d get closer to him. Not now, not ever.

________________

 Doorbell.

Saying hello.

A glass of wine.

And abort the mission.

You had thought about the plan for tonight’s dinner.

Except that it wasn’t going to work out at all. How did you know it? Well, you didn’t expect HE would opened the door, since he was another guest, right? But he did, he was in front of you, tall, dark and beautiful.

“You look…”

“Don’t say beautiful” you warned and he smiled. He knew he’d need to improve his game. Or at least, just try to be himself.

“I was going to say spectacular. May I help you with your coat?” you rose your eyebrow and nodded. “I’m sorry for what I said last night” he spoke, you crossed your arms and watched him move

“It’s okay, I don’t want things to be awkward” and that was the new plan, just let things go. Easy? Nope.

“I meant it, tho”

“Oh, my God” you walked away looking for that urgent glass of wine.

You chatted with the people that was around. but still, it was one of those days when even small talk made you feel like you needed something stronger than wine. Lucky for you, you knew where Scott kept the grown-ups boose.

You pour a Scotch and... That was it. Plan B.

_____________

“Should I be worried?” Scott asked Chris.

“Why?” he asked drinking his beer.

“She’s… tipsy, I’ve only seen her drunk twice”

“I’ll take care of her. When everything gets… fuzzy I’ll take her home”

“No way! She hates you” Scott remembered to Chris. The older brother looked at you across the room, you were smiling and talking. You laughed. He loved your laugh.

“And you are the host, you can’t leave. And I’ll be good, I promise. I won’t drink anymore so I’ll be wide awake”

“Okay” Scott accepted. “Take care of her, Chris. I’m telling you”

________________

You went to the kitchen and it was like Luca had left all his Legos, you walked dodging… anything. You were just tipsy.

Something fell. You knew something had fallen, you hit it with your elbow. You stopped and swirl looking for it. But you got dizzy, lucky for you, you weren’t alone.

“I got you, come on” someone grabbed your waist and make you sat on the counter.

“I’m fine, I just want to go home” you spoke. You were like a spoiled little girl, before the lecture when she’d misbehaved.

“Okay, let’s get your coat”

“Chris, I don’t need you. I can go on my own, I live across the hall” you pointed and he rose his eyebrows.

“I’ll just walk you and make sure you’re okay”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine, super-duper fine”

“Okay” if he had known something it was that he’d never should argue with someone drunk. “I’ll just help you with your purse”

“Yeah” you agreed.

He helped you to pick up your coat and as he had told you, he had your purse.

“I don’t get it” you spoke out of the blues.

“What?”

“You’re just so good and nice and then you’re a jerk with me. You come here and then play your stupid Hollywood act. I don’t like it, I don’t like you.” You stopped and pointed at his chest.

“What?”

“Yeah! You come here and it’s funny, like hilarious because Scott adores you and so does Luca and they tell me the most amazing things about you and then” you stopped and looked right through his eyes, you felt absolutely exposed but brave to throw the next words “and then you’re not the crush I thought I had” you smile and sigh.

Chris can barely breathe. His hands are sweaty, his mind has just blown. He’s an actor. He’s done plenty of movies were the adrenaline goes from 0 to 100 in a sec. but this, this is just so different.

“I said you were my… crush, until I met you and” you were about to cry, you lean your head back to hold the tears. “I’m definitely drunk”

“Y/n”

“Don’t say anything, I just want to go home, dude. Just let it go, it’s amazing just to say it, like, I feel free and… sad, and” you weren’t able to finish when you threw up on his top designer shoes.

After that. Everything was a blur.

___________

Fucking light.

Fucking sun.

Fucking hangover.

Fucking Chris.

You were on your bed, it was after noon and you were just opening your eyes. You buried yourself on the covers. You felt awful.

You had a note and a pharmacy bag on your night stand.

“Thank you for ruin Chris’s favorite shoes. S”

“What did I do?” you asked to yourself. You woke up, dud part of your usual routine and called Scott. He didn’t pick up.

After two hours of feeling sick, horrible and guilty as fuck, you decided to apologize to Chris and ask what had happened.

The moment you opened the door was like flashbacks.

You pressed the doorbell and Scott showed up.

“I’m sorry” you murmured covering your face.

“No, it’s okay, darling… but I think you should talk to Chris”

“Why? Did he tell you anything?” he nodded. “Tell me”

“No, it’s time you two talk”

“But I don’t want to” you made puppy face and he grabbed your waist. “I feel like I did something horrible. You used my key to get me sober somehow and I don’t even remember”

“Nothing bad happened, I promise, but you’ll feel better if you hear it from him” he closed the door behind you.

“Fine, where is him?” you asked.

“He’s on the living room”

Every step you took felt like you were about to jump on a cliff of hell. It felt like you were about to burn. You saw him playing with Luca, the little kid ran towards you and hugged your legs.

“Hey, love” you hugged him back. Unable to look at Chris.

“Come on, Luca, let’s leave them alone”

You sighed and tried to walk towards him but your feet were now drilled on the floor.

“so, I’m sorry, I don’t remember much, but I think I insulted you and called you names and I think I threw up and…”

“you only remember the bad parts, huh?” he stood in front of you, you looked at him. he looked different.

“You did call me names, you did threw up and you called me your crush”

“I did what?” you replied. Why? Why? Why?

“yeah, you told me a nice story, I was holding your hair while you threw up on the toilet.”

“What did I tell you” you walked away, to try to keep your distance, he respected that and started talking.

“You told me that the first time we met you almost met and then you froze by how asshole I was. And you were right I was a jerk, I guess I was trying to impress you but… I don’t know. And then you told me you even had imagined our first kiss. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah”

“What if we had everything for that to happen? What if we start all over?” you turn around to see him under a mistletoe he was holding above his head.

“Chris…”

“You’ve been my forever crush, y/n. but now I’m madly, crazy, deeply in love with you”

You walked towards him and crossed your arms around his neck, he leaned to kiss you. He remembered it, the stupid kiss under the mistletoe.

His lips were sweet and delicate. That kiss was like a Hollywood kiss, just perfect. He compass of his lips on yours. You two slowly split.

“You still owe me a pair of shoes”

“Shut up” he leaned to kiss you again.

[vinylhazza]

Ouuuuu ok so like a concept of gray being a mob leader n he has a wife n a child at home and he just came home from killing another person and his wife can’t even looks at him cause she realized she’s not cut out for this life and basically just a shit ton of angst😂love ur writing by the way❤️

k i forgot it said grayson and wrote it about ethan i’m SORRY

she just wanted to make olivia some mac and cheese. that’s all she wanted. she just wanted to sit her three year old on the couch, watch her favorite disney movies, help her eat her favorite food, and have a normal night. she wanted to be a tired mom. she just wanted ethan to come home for once with a smile and clean clothes. she missed his smile. she missed her husband being her husband. she missed the teasing and the energetic joking and the dancing while they cooked in the kitchen.

she didn’t want to be standing in the kitchen, watching ethan toe of his previously white shoes, stained red from the blood of who knows what body. she didn’t want to be stirring the noodles in the boiling pot of water and analyzing, pondering, wondering how many people her husband had killed tonight and what malicious ways he carried the murders out. she didn’t want to see him look at her with that guilty look in his eye while he tugged his bloody shirt over his head on the way to the laundry room and tossed it into an empty basket, shutting the door behind him.

the door was only shut for a moment before he emerged with a new set of clean clothes. this time in a clean black shirt, grey sweats, and fuzzy socks that he never lets a soul except her and a olivia know he has. his usual routine. she didn’t want this to feel normal. and most of all, she hated that their daughter had been gleaming at her dadda the entire time, oblivious to the sinister meaning of his actions.

“dadda!” she squeals out with a giggle so full of innocence in joy it nearly makes y/n sick to her stomach. her arms are raised high in the air, grabby hands ready for him to pick her up just like always. how can she be so pure in a world so evil? so unknowing to her dads sins.

“hello angel, how’s dadda’s favorite girl?” he chuckles, swooping her up from the ground with a kiss her to chubby cheek. he holds her close to his chest, rocking her from side to side while he buries her face in his chest, arms around his neck, eyes closed in content. if only she knew.

she watches him glance to her, a defined eyebrow raised. he’s silent while he rounds the island in the middle of the kitchen, olivia hanging in one arm, while the other wraps around your waist, “and how is my wonderful wife?”

his tone is light, airy, void of anything that indicates he had murdered someone moments, minutes, hours ago. ethan is clean. he doesn’t do messy. not on jobs at least...unless someone is killed. you always know the difference between a hard day and a day filled with death because he always comes in the exact same way: he doesn’t say a word, and acts like everything is fine.

“fine.” that’s all. that’s all she would give him. fine is never fine. anyone with a brain would know that ‘fine’ is literally the opposite of fine. but did he deserve to know her thoughts? would they make a difference? he’s a mob leader. the killing part of the job description won’t change. she knew what she signed up for when she married the man, so did she have the right to say anything now?

“hm, fine...do you wanna talk about it?” he ponders calmly, knowing a storm is brewing and knowing he’s not going to be the one coming out smiling on the other side.

she keeps her eyes focused on the twirling noodles in the pot, trying not to let the tears slip that have gathered on her waterline.

she’s not meant for this. olivia isn’t meant for this. yes, it pays the bills. yes, he does keep her safe. but at what cost? having to hide because she never knows who’s watching? not having her silly, caring husband that she fell in love with? having him come home with the heinous stench of blood after he kills a man with his own bare hands? takes a life because it’s his job. she’s not meant for this and he must know that by now. but how do you tell the love of your life that everything they strive to be is everything you despise?

he wasn’t always this way. he only became mob leader a year after olivia was born. it was complicated, hard, and stressful. he was gone all hours of the night, coming home early in the morning only to leave again before she would wake up. she didn’t see ethan for a month straight at one point. the strain it put on their marriage was...unbearable. not only did it affect her, but it affected their daughter - and that was her main concern.

“ethan there isn’t anything to say,” she sighs, setting the spoon down on the small saucer next to the boiling pot.

“let me put her down and then we will talk okay?” he doesn’t ever stop.

she doesn’t reply, just waits for him set her neatly down on the couch, tuck her under a blanket, and walk quietly back to where she stands leaning against the island. her arms are crossed, brows set in a frown, a tear leaking from her left eye. it breaks his heart to see her like this. and he has a good feeling he knows why.

“okay so what’s wrong?” he grumbles, sinking into a barstool that’s tucked under the island.

“what...isn’t ethan? i’m not stupid. i know what the blood on your clothes means. i just...don’t know how to handle this anymore.” she can hardly speak through the frog in her throat, her tears threatening to spill any minute.

even if it’s a talk, it feels like so much more. it feels like...the end of something bigger.

“look i know that me having this lifestyle isn’t very practical-“

“practical?! look me in the eyes right now and tell me you didn’t kill someone today. look me in my eyes as my husband and tell me you didn’t take another persons life,” she hisses, turing to glare in his eyes with a fire he hasn’t seen in a long time.

he’s noticed lately that she’s looked so...tired. he took it as her taking care of olivia and worrying about him, but he never imagined it took this much of a toll on her. he would do anything to protect them, but that ‘something’ that he’s referring to is the exact reason she is upset.

she’s met with a silence. ethan sits at the island, twirling his thumbs and avoiding her eyes altogether. he can’t tell her that. because he did kill someone. he killed three people today. it wasn’t like he enjoyed killing people, it was just something he had to do.

“what do you want me to say y/n? i’m a mob leader for God’s sake i can’t just be sunshine and rainbows 24/7.” he’s still not fucking looking at her. that only makes her more upset.

she’s sobbing now, getting olivias attention from the tv that plays dora loudly over the speakers.

“momma why you crying?” she chants from the couch cushion, moving to get up and comfort her mother.

“i’m okay honey keep watching your show. dinner is almost ready,” y/n rushes, swiping the tears from under her eyes and giving her daughter the best smile she can muster at the moment. she waits for olivia to settle back into the couch under her blanket before her gaze falls back on her husband that watches her with slumped shoulders and tired eyes. it killed her to see him so worn down so young.

“olivia doesn’t deserve this lifestyle. she deserves a dad that can promise her she’s safe. and as much as you say you’ll keep her safe, you can never truly promise that to her. she’s three ethan, and she’s already watched you come home in bloody clothing more times than i can count on one hand. i have watched you-“ she closes her eyes tight, swallowing her tears, “i’ve watched you touch me with the same hands you’ve killed with...i miss you ethan. i miss my husband. i don’t want this for you anymore. i can see the toll it takes on you please don’t lie and tell me i’m wrong.”

he sits quietly for a moment longer before turning his gaze from his hands to her eyes that flood with more tears.

“baby...i...i don’t know what you want me to do. i can’t just..stop. a mob doesn’t work like that. it’s something that’s controlling and life consuming. i don’t know how to stop. i don’t like this, you think i like this? you think i like coming home and seeing this look of disgust cross your face? you think i like missing olivia growing up? you think i like killing people even if i know they did nothing wrong just to keep our image? because i don’t y/n, but i’m the guy that people come to okay i can’t just stop!” he’s frustrated now, tugging at his hair with both hands. this is hoenstly his worst nightmare, disappointing his family .

“well maybe you should think about your family the next time you shoot a man dead,” she sneers, picking up the boiling pot of water and dumping it into the streamer without looking.

she drops the pan with a yelp when the water splashes over the side and onto the skin of her hand, scalding her. she clutched her hand tight, eyes shut, wincing when ethan grabs her tenderly with worried eyes. olivia is running over with a curious expression, confused why her mother is crying with a low moan. honestly all she wants after tonight is to be alone for a bit.

“baby what happened do we need to go to the hospital?” ethans stuttering out, hating to see his wife in so much pain. the reddened flesh is blistered and sore looking even moment after she spill, worrying him more that she’s grabbing onto her hand so tight.

a nod is the only answer she gives, letting him grab her purse and his keys. the three are leaving the house in a matter of minutes, olivia bundled up in her coat and gloves and her favorite sparkly headband. she’s hanging off of ethans arm while he guides the three of them to the car, opening the door for y/n and frowning when she backs away from the kiss he tries to land on her lips.

“we will be there in just a minute baby don’t worry just hang in there,” he promises lowly, not even touching the radio. they sit in silence while she breathes through the pain, listening to olivia him a silly song about an egg sitting on a wall to distract her.

“ethan,” she breathes, overwhelmed from all of the events that happened already.

“yeah baby? let me park the car and we can head in i promise it’ll be like two seconds,” he’s telling her softly, patting the upper part of her thigh to console her.

“you’re taking the couch when we get home.”

[ohwhatamessiam]

Self Control - Chapter 11

Summary: Thanksgiving break comes and goes. And it leaves you angry, wondering how much Chris really cares about you. Will he prove that he wants this, or will he let your spark burn out?

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Language, angst, lots of pain (the tweets from Brandon outlined this turn of events), I’m really sorry but y’all are gonna hate me for this one.

A/N: Hi everyone! I made it back for an update under 9 months this time (barely lol). There’s only 2 more chapters left in Self Control, and you guys will probably hate me for them, but this is the path we’re on together! Thank you all for your patience, and thank you to @fangirlisms-22. I have started on the next chapter but knowing me, it’ll be a while before it’s done. I’m going to ask y’all to be patient again. I tried to tag everyone, but some blogs have deactivated, changed urls, or won’t let me tag them. Let me know if you need me to change your url on my list. Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic.

I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!

Tags are still barely open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!

Self Control | Masterlist

A week of radio silence goes by and you’re left alone with your thoughts. And lonely, desperate thoughts are not your friends. 

You try to stay in for the weekend, telling yourself that the distance is for the best. It’s giving you time to work on your story. You tear that piece to shreds and stitch it back together 10 times over. Your heart is starting to feel that same way.

Wednesday afternoon you realize you’ve run completely out of your grad student food staples: mac and cheese, tortillas, shredded cheese, peanut butter, and milk. And there’s only one box of cereal left on top of your fridge. Corn flakes. The bland cereal Chris loved so much. 

You can’t bring yourself to touch it. 

Forcing your body into a pair of sweatpants and shoes, you leave the apartment. The sun feels too bright for your sensitized eyes, and the temperature is much colder than you planned for, but you know better than to turn back. If you go back, you won’t come out until you have to see him after break.

As you pull into the grocery store it finally hits you. It’s already Thanksgiving eve. That much time had slipped away from you.

You trudge through the throngs of people scrambling for last minute items. No one pays any attention to your state of disarray.

Luckily, your basic needs are in stock and you’re able to get what you need without too much difficulty. You’re about to head to the registers when you stop at the liquor aisle. The thought only has to enter your mind before your feet immediately pivot toward the wine section.

You find 3 of the cheapest, most tolerable bottles and are stuffing them in your cart when you hear glass clanking behind you. You turn to find two of the last people you wanted to see.

Sebastian and Dr. Mackie.

“Oh shit,” Sebastian yelps as he tries to balance three separate bottles of liquor in one arm. Dr. Mackie snickers at him as he adds another bottle to their collection. 

You shift quickly, trying to keep your back to them. There’s no need for a conversation on a day like today.

“(Y/N),” Sebastian calls out. 

Your whole body tenses, fingers clenching the cart handle. How did he even know it was you in your chaotic state?

Footsteps approach you and you try to muster the strength to face them. At your best, you gather a forced smile.

“Hi (Y/N),” he grins as he slides up to your cart, Dr. Mackie in tow. 

“Hi guys,” you manage. You catch how Dr. Mackie’s eyes flash to your hair, and then your clothes. You try not to get caught up on how that makes you want to crawl home, with or without groceries. 

“What are you doing in town? It’s Thanksgiving,” Sebastian asks as he tries to pay more attention to his assortment of alcohol instead of your appearance.

“I’m staying here for break. My family’s a little spread out, so it’s hard to pick a side.” You glance over at Dr. Mackie, hoping that answer seems somewhat believable. 

He seems to buy it as he nods, “I get that.”

You’d never seen these men outside of an academic environment, and when you finally notice their current clothing, you feel the tiniest bit better about running into them. Dr. Mackie’s wearing a navy polo and a pair of gray chinos, while Sebastian’s in a pair of black jeans and a red henley.  

Something about seeing even your colleagues out of business casual, made you feel a little special. Like you were welcomed into Chris’s friend group with open arms. Like the relationship you and Chris have could exist both inside and outside of school safely.

Or had.

“If you’re staying in town, why didn’t you answer our email?” Sebastian asks.

“What email?” Your mind is already trying to remember the last time you glanced at your school account. It must have been nearly a week. But why would you check it when clearly staring at your text messages and voicemails from Chris had been filling your weaker moments?

“The one where we reached out to every grad student and faculty member whom had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving, and invited them to a potluck in the Webster hall student lounge?”

Your eyes shift between the men nervously, “Oh, uh, I must have missed that one.”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Mackie answers.

“Well look,” Sebastian continues, “we’re going to have a lot of food, and just need people to eat it now.”

“You could absolutely just bring a bottle of wine and load up a plate.” Dr. Mackie adds as he notices the bottles in your cart. Unfortunately, he doesn’t realize you already have plans to finish those bottles by yourself, and maybe even before Thanksgiving.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” More like you really hope you never have to leave your apartment again.

“Ah, you already have plans.”

You don’t, but you nod like you do in hopes they’ll back off. 

“Well I’m sure we’ll have leftovers,” Sebastian’s eyes become too sharp as the words leave his mouth, “so if you wanna stop by after you’re done doing whatever you have to do, you’re welcome to.” His tone of voice leaves you surprised he didn’t just outright wink at you.

But apparently he didn’t know yet. Chris hadn’t told him about your “distance.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to, but I’ll try.”

“Good,” Dr. Mackie nods, his eyes cutting to Sebastian, clearly trying to get his friend to leave you alone. You know the only time you’ve spent with him was at the faculty dinner, but inside you quietly thank him.

“Yeah, great. And you can bring anyone if you want. Thanksgiving is about sharing.” Sebastian’s eyes stay on yours, still unsubtly trying to communicate that Chris is welcome. Under his gaze, you feel a bubble of tension build in your chest, the precursor to more tears. 

“I won’t bring anyone, but thank you for offering.” You need to get out of here. You will not cry in front of Chris’s friends and colleagues. You drop your focus back onto your grocery cart, trying to stave off the warmth behind your eyes.

“You are very welcome. Seb, we should probably get going now,” Dr. Mackie swoops in for the save. “Whether we see you or not, have a good Thanksgiving (Y/N).” And he’s already guiding Sebastian away from you.

“Thanks, you too,” you call out. They don’t answer, and fortunately they round the corner before the first tear drops.

_______________________________________________________________________

You finish your last bottle of wine late on Thanksgiving. You pick up your phone and nearly dial his number, but just as you reach his name in your contact list, you picture it in your mind.

Him, sitting at a large table covered in all the traditional Thanksgiving dishes. On his right is Jennifer, and she’s beaming. This is her in her element. She’s getting what she wants because Chris won’t tell his family yet that they’re getting divorced. But your mind focuses on the space between them, their joined hands sitting on the table.

You can’t help but throw your phone across the room.

You don’t need confirmation that you’re right, that your fear isn’t imaginary. But you also don’t need to sit around calling him, embarrassing yourself with desperate voice messages that ultimately won’t help your relationship.

You know there has to be something else to fill this void.

And then pull out your laptop and start writing. And it’s a very different story than the one you’ve been working on.

_______________________________________________________________________

The rest of break comes and goes, and somehow you manage to honor the “distance.” Maybe it’s that your sadness has started becoming little pockets of anger, or maybe it’s that you’ve already cried and moped enough. 

But the first day back to classes, you go in with your head held high.

You made it this long without caving and calling, or going to see him. It’ll hurt, but you’ll make it through a class together. You end up being one of the first people in a seat, the students seem to have gotten slower since Thanksgiving break. Lethargic and ready for winter break already.

Winter break was supposed to be when you and Chris could end your distance, your weird work power dynamics would be over and neither of you could lose their job. But what used to feel like a hopeful promise felt like a drawn out execution now. If Thanksgiving had gone even vaguely how you imagined it had for him, you were sure the end was coming. 

Part of what made you love Chris was his heart, his empathy, his willingness to try to see the best in people. And while those traits hadn’t been applied to Jennifer in a while, you were nearly positive they could be again.

Tom comes in at his usual time, but sits at the end of the row behind you. You find that odd, but barely have a moment to dwell on it before Chris arrives. And his face is clean shaven.

A piece of your heart sinks, and you slip further into your chair. 

He avoids eye contact with you until after he has the presentation pulled up on the projector and the rest of the class has filed in. He takes a deep breath, his hands gripping the sides of the podium, and he looks out at the room. But his eyes seem to gloss over the break-hungover students and fall on you.

You feel yourself gulp, but you don’t look away. Not yet. His clothes are nicer, less rumpled than before break. His hair is shorter and slicked back, like it had been at the beginning of the semester. And his wedding ring seems to just catch the fluorescent lights perfectly. 

Everything but his gaze feels foreign. Almost too different than your Chris.

And that’s when you drop your gaze back to your laptop. Of course he’d been home long enough to do laundry and look like his old self again. Maybe it was for his family over break, but maybe it was for Jennifer. 

He watches you for one more moment, and then focuses back on the students. “Good afternoon, class. I hope everyone had a good break.”

Hearing his voice hurts worse than seeing him, but you straighten your spine and get through class. He does not hang his attention on you again, and the only one who seems to notice besides you, is Tom.

_______________________________________________________________________

Your office hours feel like slow torture since you’re left alone with your thoughts about Chris again. And how he looked. And how he barely looked at you.

You wish for a distraction. A student, Robert to come in, or even Tom to show up even though he’d been icy towards you recently. But you get nothing.

So instead, you work on the new piece you started over break. That piece about cycles, and circumstances. About love given, and love lost. About power dynamics and the risks you take when you ignore them. 

Office hours nearly end before you look up. 

And Chris is standing on the other side of your open door, not knocking, but not walking away. You’re not sure what to make of that. 

Is he stopping himself from rushing up to you? Or is he forcing himself to stay there until you say something, until you force him to admit what’s really happening here?

He finally meets your eyes and your heart drops. Just like it had during that awful phone call. And you knew what that meant then, and what that says now.

But you try to fight it. You tell yourself it is just paranoia.

“Hi,” you say, your voice coming out short, trying to hide its shakiness.

“Hi.” Just one word from his lips and your very marrow wants to crawl to him, pleading to forget Thanksgiving break. Forget whatever transpired then. Remember what you had before. What you could have next.

But you stay in your seat and watch him step into your office gingerly. His eyes take in the room, either looking for new evidence in support of your relationship, or looking for a distraction so he doesn’t have to say it. Or at least that’s what it looks like. 

His hands are shoved in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. And it makes this feel even sadder.  He’s resigned to this. Whatever’s coming, he doesn’t really want it. Not fully. 

You can’t take it anymore, you have to end this pointless staring. His at your office, yours waiting for him.

“So, what do you need?”

His face changes, the slightest furrow of his brows, the gentlest sigh. As if you wounded him, rushing him through this moment. A moment you were starting to want over.

He closes your office door, leaving you two alone in a room with so many memories. A room that just a couple weeks ago held what you hoped was the promise of a future.

“We need to talk,” he says, sitting on the edge of the seat across from you. You nod, but don’t say anything. Not until you know what kind of talk this is.

He stares at you for a moment, watching your face, waiting for it to change, shift into something else. But you keep your emotions away from the surface. You’ve had enough time to think about this during your distance.

He finally continues, “This Thanksgiving was tense. A lot happened. A lot was said. But the time apart helped me figure somethings out.”

“Like what?” You watch as his fingers twitch, his eyes roaming you for clues on what you want to hear.

“Like, I’m not the only one who’s been seeing someone else. She wouldn’t tell me who, but I can’t help but feel like it was her way of throwing us in my face.” He pauses, but you don’t break, don’t reach for his hand or tell him he’s right. You wait for the rest.

“And I learned that our families aren’t ready for a divorce yet.” His eyes focus on the edge of your desk. He still won’t stand up to them yet. 

He knows this isn’t fair to you. And he won’t even look you in the eye as he admits it.

“So, where does that leave me?” A fire fuels in your belly, you want to scream at him. You can’t keep living in this state of distance. That he needs to figure out whether he wants you more than he wants to avoid conflict with her and his family.

“As someone I want a future with.” He’s watching your chest now, the way your breath fills your lungs, and you hold it in, praying that he’ll just drop the other shoe. “As someone I could see myself growing old with, living a full, creative life together.”

“But?” 

He hesitates and you try to keep the air moving in and out of your body. You do not have any new breath-held wishes, everything you could ever hope for from this moment has already found a home in your mind. And it is accompanied by all your fears about this relationship, and its end. 

But the way his shoulders slump, and his elbows dig into his knees as he leans on them. The way his head now hangs in his hands. You feel that your fears are unfortunately, closer to this reality.

“But not someone I can have a now with.” 

Your heart felt it coming, and it hurts worse than you ever would have expected.

That fire is in your chest now, beating your lungs, eating the oxygen from them. Like a hit to the gut. There’s no more breath to hold. 

Was this relationship always going to be a waiting game? Or just a dalliance to fill the time?

“This time apart, this distance has already been painful enough, Chris. But I was doing it to protect both of us.”

He raises his head, and his watery eyes catch on your own, “It’s been terrible not seeing you, not talking to you. It’s been painful for me too. But it’s been for the best.”

“Best as in it protects us for our future? Or best as in it allows you to give your marriage another shot?” Will he stop trying to dance his way around this, stop softening this? You need a clear answer on where you stand, and where you are going to be moving forward.

“I- I’m afraid to say both.”

And that hits you with an overwhelming force. Your heart has sunk so far, you are not even sure you have one anymore. You just want to curl into a ball and cry. But instead, you let that fire from before crawl its way into your mouth. “So do you want me to wait around for you? Let you test the waters with Jennifer again until you're sure you want to be with me? Because that’s not what I signed up for with us.”

“I know that, and that’s not what I wanted for us either.” 

“And if I wait any longer, I’m not protecting us anymore. I’m protecting you, and your life, while mine gets boxed away. But what I want should matter too.”

“Y/N, it does,” he whispers, but it doesn’t slow you down.

“Should we still even try to be together? If you’re not sure that this is it, that I am who you should be with, what’s the point? What are we holding out for?”

All the air from the room feels like it has been sucked out. Chris is staring at you like you’ve wrecked his whole world. And inside, it absolutely feels like you’ve just ripped apart your own. But you know it had to be said. 

“Because I love you. And you love me.”

“Is that enough Chris? Because it’s starting to seem like it isn’t anymore.”

He looks at you, eyes wide as his lower lip trembles softly, but you remind yourself to hold your ground. He was the one who’d come in there to tell you he might go back to his wife. He was the one who had already planned on doing this.

“It was, it is. We just need to wait it out. See if Jennifer and Robert will leave us alone.”

“They already know, and so does probably half of the department.” You hope your words aren’t actually true, but between all the conversations you had before break, it sure as hell feels like it. “I’m not staying your secret affair. I’m not your office hours hook up because you can’t tolerate your wife. You either tell me right now that you will fully work on what we have, or you tell me it’s over.”

His eyes are searching your office again, looking for courage, or maybe an excuse. He doesn’t seem to find it, and his focus settles on your joined hands. You clench them together, a silent prayer for the truth. 

“I can’t do either of those things.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You just want a straight goddamn answer. “Chris…”

“I can’t. Because I don’t want to lose you, it hurts so much to be apart from you. But I can’t gamble with the rest of my life, my job, my family. I can’t just ignore them and run away again. It’s not working out for any of us that way.”

You want to snap that it was working out fine for you, but you try not to be more selfish than you already feel. And as well as you were making out, he is right, these last few months hadn’t been perfect. Except you don’t want perfect, you just want a promise to try. A whole-hearted attempt. 

Instead, you stay quiet for a moment, watching him, taking him in. His clearly upset features, his body perched on the edge of his seat. His words are telling you that the one fear you had grown so very close to this entire break, is real. His already established, semi-comfortable life is more important than you, or your happiness. And you had really wanted to be wrong.

“That is my answer.” Your mouth finally moves, saying what you were thinking all along. “Your inability to make a decision is everything I need to know.”

“I didn’t want this to happen (Y/N). I don’t want this to be over.” His hands reach out for yours, searching for a physical connection, a spark. Something that will help him soften this, or make you change your mind.

But it won’t. And you pull your fingers from your desk.

“Then you should have thought about that earlier, Chris. You should have considered whether kissing me in this hallway could ruin your life. That sleeping with me in your office could demolish everything. You should have decided then, if this last 3 months was worth it, to risk it all? Because I decided that then. I decided I wanted you, and this, but I knew I might regret it one day. And you’ve probably proven me right.”

Chris’s eyes latch onto your own, shock lifting his brows so gently. Like you’ve landed the final blow, you knocked him out. But this wasn’t a match for you to win. No, this was a mercy kill. You know now this relationship had to end before it sacrificed what was left of your control, and your sanity.

“I always wanted this. There’s not a single second I’ve regretted it.” His tone comes out rough, as if the anger you’ve let out finally reaches his own gut. And you hope it burns as much for him as it does for you.

“Good for you. But if you really wanted this, why didn’t you tell me about Jennifer’s sudden interest in getting back together earlier? Why didn’t you tell your family that you guys are over? That there’s no hope for your marriage, and that you’re ready to move on? Would you rather have a second chance with her instead of a first, real chance with me?”

You look down at your own hands in your lap, your fingers twisted together. And for a moment you second guess this whole conversation. Is this really how this has to go? “Or at least that’s what I asked myself over and over again during break.”

He stays quiet, his eyes shifting down, settling on his knees. They bounce as his heels tap the floor. His nerves are so raw, that he might just be finally admitting to himself, that this has reached its conclusion. That maybe this was never going to end any differently.

The words leave his mouth so quietly, you almost miss them. “So this is the end then?” 

As much as this already feels like slicing a part of yourself off, you were staying strong. But his tone, its soft resignation, it builds a heat behind your eyes. And your tears threaten to let loose.

“I’ll finish the semester as your TA, but yes. I-” the crack in your voice gives away more than you’ve shown this entire conversation. And his baby blues latch on to it, to you. A final, silent pleading. But you gulp, “I think it is.” 

Inside you are begging for him to say no, it’s not. That he won’t let this be the end. That you are more important than Jennifer, than his family, than anyone’s opinion.

He nods to himself, his eyes squeezing shut. He takes a moment to make himself accept it, and then he pushes himself up.

“I’m sorry this is how we’re ending, (Y/N). I never meant to compromise your feelings or your wants. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I understand how my intentions have gotten lost in our situation.” He moves to your door, turning his back to you. 

You feel your bottom lip quiver as the tears in your eyes start to bleed out.

“I’m sorry too, Chris.” He hesitates, looking back at you as his hand reaches the door knob. “Goodbye.”

One more quick nod as his gaze drops, attempting to ignore your quiet sob. His fingers push open the door and he whispers, “Goodbye.”

And then he’s gone, and your office hours are over, and you want to be anywhere but here. But as you try to stand, you can’t move yet. This loss feels paralyzing. Your limbs lock in denial, your mind wants to bargain now. But you know it’s too late.

So you sit there, and cry every tear out you can, waiting for the pain to subside. Waiting for your breath to stop shaking. Waiting for you to feel confident in your choices.

And eventually, it does. And you do.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tags: @irishdancr24​ @lostboyinneverland​ @dianaofsthemyscira​​ @funlizzie02-blog​ @void-imaginations​ @cryingovershipsthatneversailed​ @breezykpop​ @jcc04220​ @nys30​ @jonsnowisnotdeadthough​ @guera31​ @wickedcitywitch @london-dreamer71​ @patzammit​ @lilypalmer1987​ @talannalew​ @thatonetuesdaywhensam @supperunnatural20​ @evanstanfanatic​ @lucinapomona​ @r5rocks101​ @dolphinpink310​ @bojabee​ @zlixlle​ @smashley816​ @youtheheckisbucky​ @bit-of-a-timelord​ @sebastian-i-stan​ @stevieang​ @suz-123​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @ssweet-empowerment​ @sophiealiice​ @imaginesofdreams​ @anotherawkwardaustralian​ @lostxsea​

Slashed through names couldn’t be tagged 

[5am-moonlight]

can i get some mcfreakin uhhhh voltron matt x reader fluffy times 👀

yo nonnie I’m sorry this took so fucking long

also the cat is based off a real stray cat that we kept for like two weeks on and off but it’s g he has a genuine home now also the allergy thing happened too 🤙

Uhh yes this is Christmas themed (I kno, it’s not Halloween yet, I hate myself too) but there’s no real mention of the holiday,,, warnings: uhhh idk mention of condoms but all still pg 12.

The minute you woke up on Christmas Eve, you started to really get excited. You’d known exactly what to get Matt, you saw how his eyes lingered on the new Killbot Phantasom: Battle for Earth. Apparently it was completely revamped, 4K HD Graphics, new mech characters. You liked games, not as much as him, you were more computer-y, but you played some PS4 games now and again when you had the time, and you had to agree it did look amazing. You had pre-ordered it months, even a year or so ago, and you were incredibly excited to see his face when you gave him his gift.

Meanwhile, Matt was absolutely shitting himself. He had wanted to get you the new Killbot Phantasom game, as it was something you guys could play together, but it had completely sold out. He could admit, his present choice was completely selfish but he would take any excuse to spend time with you now. Even as roommates, you guys saw very little of each other. You were working a part time undergrad degree in cyber security, and had a part time job, so if you weren’t asleep you were out of the house. Matt was a full time post grad student, and he sometimes even did bartending gigs to get some more funds in. You were both in school on scholarships, but money is something you could never have too much of in college. However recently, you’d managed to get the Christmas break off from your job because of the amount of overtime you’d done, and Matt had claimed he was ‘out of the state’ and ‘visiting family for Christmas’ so his boss would also let him have the few weeks too. He was adamant that you guys would be able to spend some time together, so he’d told you he’d had planned a Christmas dinner type thing and to buy some food (majoritly drink, he’d wrote it on the list three separate times,) and anything else that you guys might want, snacks and stuff. He knew you didn’t really like big events or anything and he promised it wasn’t actually anything like a genuine family Christmas dinner, neither of you actually celebrated Christmas, not enough money and not enough time, among other things, and you were incredibly excited. Hell, any reason to spend any time with Matt alone made you excited. He was your best friend first, and crush second but the more time went on the more you could tell this was starting to become something more than a crush. The way his laugh made your stomach get butterflies, or how he would stick his tongue out through his teeth when he was really concentrating, completely lost in his work. Or the days when he would come up behind you and pick you up in surprise. You knew he loved you, albeit only platonically, but you’d been in love with him for so long you’d happily take being his best friend over potentially loosing him. Didn’t really help he was really fucking pretty though.

Although if he was asked, he’d say the exact same thing about you.

When he woke up, he was incredibly nervous. He’d managed to scrap together some things he’d thought you’d like, but it wasn’t what he thought would be perfect. He knew you’d love anything you were given, but he wanted to feel like his gift was perfect. He’d also decided (see: be threatened by Pidge that if he didn’t she was gonna tell you herself) that he was gonna tell you how he felt, and he was terrified. Objectively, he knew he couldn’t keep his feelings for you under wraps for much longer. Every little thing you did was driving him insane. The way you’d look when you just woke up, sleepy and mumbling. The one time you accidentally poured orange juice into your cereal and turned around and buried your head in his shoulder, groaning. He’d spent the rest of the day blushing, so much so that Pidge actually thought he was ill. Or the way, sometimes, if he asked you about your day or your favourite hobby, your eyes would smile, and you’d get so excited. The main thing, that would always make him smile, no matter what, was the way you’d ask him to do something you knew he didn’t want. You would hug his arm, and beg “Please Matty?”. Your eyes would go big and you’d jump up and laugh and hug him if he’d agree. He always knew that you’d never do anything he actually didn’t want, and he trusted you with his life.

You’d come home once, drenched in rain, and in the middle of running to the bathroom, your jacket had meowed. Your eyes had gone really wide and then you’d slowly put your hand in your coat and brought out a tiny kitten, the size of your hands and placed him right in front of Matt’s face. “Please?”. You’d looked so mischievous and hopeful, he couldn’t say no. Also, the fact you’d hugged him for like ten minutes and kept on referring to him as “daddy” when talking to the kitten, which made his heart incredibly weak and made him feel incredibly soft. You’d called the kitten Monroe, and you were so soft for him. Until Matt discovered he was allergic to cats. You’d spent the night with him after you’d given Monroe to Pidge, just talking and watching movies. You’d seen how sad he was, which surprised himself, Monroe had been your baby, and made him a pillow fort in the sitting room, and gotten a ton of cat related movies on your Netflix. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and when he tried to move you to make you more comfortable, you’d mumbled and snuggled into him, clinging onto his chest. He remembered how his heart was going 50m/ph, and how peaceful you had looked. He hadn’t ever wanted a pet, but now he was happy you’d gotten one, no matter how it ended.

He started work on the “Christmas dinner” which was essentially his mother’s recipe for mac and cheese which included five different cheeses, some store bought potato salad, Doritos, dips, and a bags of jellies and sweets and chocolates. He managed to set everything up like a pic’n’mix stall, and got to work on the movie set up. His memory of you and him in the pillow fort remains one of his favourites, as the day he knew he had fallen in love with you. You texted Matt you were on your way home, after stopping from the shopping centre to pick up his gift, and some more sugary stuff, including a Lindt chocolate bunny that you would get each other every year, and a pack of condoms as a joke, since you’d seen him with a really smart, pretty new girl in his class. You knew she liked him, she’d come up to you at one point asking about Matt since she knew you two were roommates. He was always nervous around girls, with exception to you, which you put down to the fact you’d known him for most of your life, grown up together. You’d tried to set him up with some girls, and a few guys you knew, as a kind of way to force yourself to get over him. You’d been in love with him as long as you could remember, but realistically you knew it was never gonna happen. You didn’t like to think about too much because it made your heart hurt, like there was a hole in your chest, but you knew he was a genuine guy and whoever he would end up with was definitely lucky. Even if it wasn’t you.

You’d reached your front door at this point, and stood up straight, taking a deep breath.

“Hey! I’m hom-“ You were shocked. The hall had been decorated with fairy lights. You walked into the sitting room, speechless. You had obviously known that Matt was preparing something but not *this. He had taken his mattress, and yours you’d assumed, and put them where the couch had been. The couch had been pulled back and the cushioning taken down and put around the mattresses, for head rests and back rests, making a sort of crude looking chaise longue. There were pillows everywhere, and stacked piles of duvets and blankets. There was a small table on both sides of the fort, filled with what looked like movie bags of sweets, and wrapped presents,as well as a pic’n’mix table behind the couch. Matt hadn’t realised you were home, and he was still working in the kitchen.

“Matt”. You breathed out. “This is..insane. It must have taken you forever!”

He jumped a little bit at your voice, not expecting you some until another half an hour.

“Oh! Yeah hey y/n, I...uh, was-wasn’t expecting you until another while. D-do you like it? Everything?”

You placed your bag-for-life on the counter top and ran over to him, tackling him in a hug.

“Mattie, it looks amazing. What possessed you to work so hard on this?”

He blushed, a red flush working all the way up to the tips of his ears, and looked down to the floor.

You ducked under him, as he was much taller than you, and put your finger under his chin as to make him look at you.

“Hey, what’s up? Talk to m- hmmph”

He had slipped his strong arms around your middle and kissed you. You melted into the kiss, balancing yourself by putting your arms around his shoulders. He hoisted you up, so you would wrap your legs around him, as he held you impossibly close. You broke away with a gasp, after what seemed like hours. You’d only done it once but you knew you could loose yourself in kissing Matt.

“How long?” He seemed breathless, still holding on to your waist.

“Remember that time you defeated the final boss in Killbot Phantasom, and you picked me up and spun me around? Then”

He laughed at that, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Then? I was 10 years old, you’d gotten the game for your 7th birthday. That long?”

You ruffled his hair, and moved to hold his hand.

“C’mon. I’ve something to show you”

You brought him out to the sitting room, still holding his hand, then pushed him onto the mattresses. He made an indignant yelp, which made you laugh, and then you yelled as he pulled you down with him. You landed on him with an oof, laughing as he started messing with you, kissing your face and neck. You eventually came out on top, resting your hands on his sides. You reached over to his table, picking up your present for him, wrapped so carefully.

“Here. Open it.”

You placed it on his chest, still partially sitting in his lap while he sat up a little straighter. He looked incredibly excited, pausing for a second before mauling the gift open. He stopped when he recognised the cover, not even fully opening your gift before he carefully placed it beside him, and tackled you guys over, so he was out on top.

“You didn’t”

“I did”

“New plan for the Christmas break, we aren’t leaving the apartment until that’s finished. You started this, now you’re stuck with me”

You smiled, and pulled him down for another breathtaking kiss.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[avarice-inclined]

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER .

Can be used for RP and non-RP blogs to get to know a bit about the person behind the screen!

1. FIRST NAME: emmett

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: i have an overall weird talent for mimicking character voices, but the most notable one is Stitch from Lilo and Stitch

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON:   -✧ eyes, definitely, even though it’s a bit of an oxymoron because of how much i HATE making direct eye-contact in conversation, but i like eyes when i can look and the person isn’t looking directly at me -✧ how a person smiles is a big one, because happiness is really heckin beautiful and it’s even better if i know i’m the cause of a smile -✧ freckles. i absolutely love freckles, like, the more the merrier. it’s like having constellations on their skin, like the universe doused them in glitter idk, they’re just super pretty 

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: mac n cheese, esp if it’s nice and gooey with lots of melted cheese. i go absolutely ham for good mac n cheese lol

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: i don’t really care for beans of any sort. baked beans are an exception but, like, they gotta be the sweet kind. i hate sausage, in general, esp breakfast sausage because the smell just makes my stomach feel bleugh 

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: collecting stupid quarter machine figurines and writing complex, self-insert fanfiction in my head that never make it into written form because i am not brave enough to actually write any of that shit down lmao

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: leggings and a t-shirt, sometimes just a shirt and nothin else cuz i live in florida in a house with no central air and it’s HOT don’t judge

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: serious, but only because i’m not emotionally capable of flings and i have to get p close to someone for anything bedroom-related to come up, and if it’s gotten to that point i’m definitely already HELLA ATTACHED and probably already telling the person ‘love you’ in casual conversation

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: i honestly don’t know about this because, like, ideally i would have left my parents house way earlier than i did, or at least tried to assert my demand to be treated like a human being way earlier, but, then again, everything that’s happened in my life has led me to the point i’m at today and if things had gone just slightly different, i might not have met my husband, or i might not be as sure of my gender identity as i am now. so, like, even though a lot of things in my past REALLY SUCKED, there’s only a specific few things i might change but even then i’d be hesitant about it because i like how my life is now, even with all the shit i had to struggle through to get here.

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: probably, yeah, i am def that touch-starved bitch who craves physical affection, be it platonic, romantic, or otherwise. i’m not down to hug or cuddle with a stranger but, like, if i’m friends with someone and know they’re cool with it, they’re gettin loved on

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: all of the LoTR/Hobbit movies, any Studio Ghibli film, the last unicorn, WOLF CHILDREN EVEN THO IT MAKES ME LITTLE-GIRL SOB EVERY TIME, Venom, Detective Pikachu, THE PRINCESS BRIDE

12. FAVORITE BOOK: island of the blue dolphins, the entire animorphs series, DRAGONRIDERS OF PERN SERIES, actually just about any book with dragons in it where the dragons are complex and not evil is absolutely my jam, the Abhorsen series, also the Hunger Games... i don’t really have one specific favorite book that’s literally impossible to decide lol

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: anything that isn’t a spider or a bug that can inflict bodily harm unto my person. i just really love all animals okay just gimme a farm house or a ranch so i can have ALL of my favorite animals in one place that’d be ideal. but if i had to pick just one i’d want my cat because she’s the best little girl and i’ve only had her for 4 days but i would die for this chaotic little ball of fluff you have no idea. i am incomplete without a cat at my side

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]: (FMA) ed/winry or ed/ling, just let the kids be happy, (WITCHER) geralt/jaskier/yen, because geralt has two hands and both of them deserve to be held, (FMA) greed/not dying au’s, I JUST WANT MY BOY TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?, (ATLA) katara/zuko/aang, lemme have my loving polyam pairings, (ADVENTURE ZONE) taako/kravitz, because the bar doesn’t get much higher than seducing the grim reaper with threat of tentacles

15. PIE OR CAKE: i literally cannot choose between the two, i have favorites from both categories and i BAKE so that makes it even harder

16. FAVORITE SCENT: vanilla, peaches, and books

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: brendan urie or kiera knightley... also david tennant

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: new zealand, because i’m a nerd and that’s where LoTR was filmed, but i’d also like to go to japan

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: definitely an introvert

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: very much so, but i do still enjoy horror themes in movies and games, even if i can’t play most games myself and have to watch lets plays of them

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: i’ve only ever had android phones. the only apple device i ever had was an iPad but since i was only using it for art i don’t have much of an opinion on it beyond that lol

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: i’m currently playing the witcher 3, whichever final fantasy has Noctis in it- i don’t know what the number is because i have a hard time reading roman numerals, kingdom hearts 3, and animal crossing new leaf (if any of you also play i am welcome to giving out my friend code if you’re interested!)

23. DREAM JOB: making a living off my art, or even getting into video game design

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: pay off debt/overdue bills, finally get hormone therapy and top surgery, and get myself and my friends and chosen family into a better house and away from abusive situations

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: i don’t think there are any characters that i hate tbh, i might hate things that certain characters DO, but that’s not the same as hating the character itself. from a design perspective, though, Tingle from LOZ can fuck right off, actually. WAIT SCRATCH THAT. SHOU TUCKER CAN SWALLOW A CACTUS WHOLE. that is all. ahem.

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: twi//light, until i realized just how gross smeyer was and how her writing is, objectively, not as great as everyone made it out to be

tagged by: stole this from @dolcetters tagging: if you wanna do it, go for it!