#THE TINY SECOND WHEN I REALIZED HE WAS NOT NOEL

[goldenspecter]

Cosmo’s TMNT Masterpost

(Rise, 2003, 2012, and others)

Here’s where you can find pretty much everything I’ve ever made for the TMNT fandom! Fanfics here[haven’t gotten the courage to post fanart here yet], hope you guys enjoy my work. Reblogs are appreciated!

Fanfics

1. Finding my way home(and moving forward)

Out of sheer curiosity, Leonardo and Donatello looked up, and there it was.

A portal.

Had the Universe really taken pity on them? Had it really heard his desperate prayers for one more chance?

It was not like the ones they had seen before, it was an irregular circle made up of several shades of blue, completely different from the perfect and symmetrical pink triangles of the Kraang.

Leonardo and Donatello looked into each other's eyes for a few moments, "Should we go in?" Donatello asked, almost shouting, drawing the attention of the others, who quickly turned to the portal and to see each other, then the two brothers in question.

"It's our best bet, and our only chance," replied Leonardo.

Or rather, with the 2012 kids' home gone, they end up in the Rise verse after a strange portal shows up. Therapy is needed, and start the slow process of healing from their trauma.

(Rise/2012, Work in Progress, written with @keeryd​ )

2. Strawberry Cookies:

"Mikey here was just about to tell me what we could do to cheer Raph up while he's sick," Donnie says. "Mikey continue?"

Now that Mikey had both of his older brothers attention, he grins. "I was thinking we make strawberry cookies!" He does his jazz hands as he says this and is met with looks of something that he can only put as disapproval. "What?"

"You do know that everytime that we have tried to make it-" Donnie starts.

"We mess it up and Raph has to come in and save our butts from burning the cookies?" Leo finishes, "What would be different this time?"

Mikey huffs, "We are doing this so we can cheer him up and to prove that we can do something on our own!" he says, "That's what got Raph sick in the first place!"

Or rather, Raph gets sick after helping his brothers recover from the poisoned pizza puffs. Mikey, Donnie, and Leo take a shot at baking cookies for Raph while trying not to burn their kitchen down.

(One shot, complete)

 3. Chicken Fried Rice:

“I only poured in half a pot of rice,” Donnie complained.

Mikey stared at him, really stared at him before he spoke. “You do realize that rice expands when cooked right?” he said, “You do realize that?”

Donnie was silent, looking away from Mikey.

“Donnie!”

Donnie makes chicken fried rice. Mikey watches over. Shenanigans and brotherly fluff ensue.

one shot in which Donnie is in the kitchen, cooking rice and Mikey, Mikey is positive he should have gotten Donnies braincell. 

(One shot, complete)

 4. Tea Time with Hortense and Patty: 

"Sooo," Raph starts. She's always been weird with awkward silences. "Are these grandma kinning hours?"

"Grandma hours!" Mikey exclaims excitedly. "Grandma time!!!"

"Ah, if it isn't our favorite girl and her little brother!" Hortense tilts her head over in their direction slightly. "Are you going to join us? We were just about done arguing," she says.

---

Today is Tea Time. Two old ladies have a tea party, one of them forgets to bring the food, and they are joined by Mikey and Raph. A good time is still had.

(One Shot, Complete)

5. One of those Days

When Donnie woke up this morning, he woke up with the familiar thrum of anger and irritation running through his body with more intensity than normal. Rubbing the crust out of the corners of his sleep-addled eyes, he jerkily grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm. It's one of Those Days, Donnie noted. Those Days where Donnie isn't capable of handling Mikey's over-enthusiastic optimism or Leon's chaotic trickster nature. His safest bet is to hang out with Raph, his calm and mellow demeanor always helped calm down before Donnie went on a rage fest and say anything he couldn't take back.

Or, Donnie and Raph help each other out, balance each other, and make things a little less difficult.

(One Shot, Complete) 

 6. Gift Hunting: 

“It’s Leo. Tiny Leo,” the voice answers. “I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t say until you say yes first,” Leo says. “It’s really important though.”

Angelo is silent, weighing his options. He could say no, he really could-

“Please, Angelo, you’re the only one who can really help me with this,” Leo pleads.

Rather, Angelo and Leonardo go out in the streets of New York to help the blue banded turtle find gifts for his brothers' sixteenth mutation day. Bonding and fluff ensues.

(One Shot, Complete)

 7. Aftermath:

“Raphie bear?” Mikey called out, gently tapping Raph, with relief washing him when Raph turned his head to face him. “What’s the matter teddy bear?”

“Th-thi-this doesn’t feel real.” Raph stuttered out, his voice cracking as a sob broke through. “I’m not really here. Neither are you and everyone else. I’m still alone with Draxum and his minions. No one’s coming to save me because I was stupid enough to get captured and no one wants such a worthless turtle like me.”

In which Raph was kidnapped and tortured by Baron Draxum and his family has to deal with the aftermath of it.

(One Shot, Complete)

 8. To Be the Eldest

Donnie, the second youngest in his family, wishes he was the eldest for once. Then one night, Donnie gets his wish granted and now he was three small turtles in his care.

Donnie adjusts to being the eldest, comes to some realizations, and makes a promise to his (now) younger brothers.

(Work In Progress)

 9. Wanted: Snaggletooth 

Dr. Noel bent down on his knees in front of Raph, a manic smile that showed too many teeth coming about on his face speaking of pain and suffering that has yet to come. He stretched out his hand towards Raph’s face, placing a thumb under his mouth, pressing into his snaggletooth. “Beautiful. Just as I expected,” he crooned, pulling out a syringe and injecting it into Raph’s neck, pushing the contents of the syringe into his system.

Raph’s eyes fluttered as he started losing consciousness, watching through hooded eyes as Dr. Noel's smile grew even wider, with his last thought right as darkness consumed him being that he hoped his family would find him before it was too late.

Post S2 Finale, Dr. Noel remembers Raphael, his snaggletooth, and manages to find and capture the red masked turtle. It doesn't end well for Raphael.

(Work In Progress)

 10. Dimensional Differences:

They bow. Not like one of those pretentious bows like she would do at Yokai parties and not like the ones she would do with her brothers when they hosted tea parties. They bowed deeply, heads stopping at her stomach, one hand closing around their fists. This spoke of respect and honor.

And that unnerved her a little bit. Why are they bowing so deeply?

“Thank you,” they said in unison. It’s unnerving to April and she felt the uneasiness coming from her brothers too.

“Why are you thanking me?” She said finally, voice sounding foreign to her.

“You saved my life?” Baby Leo said slowly, voice tinged with confusion. “That was an honorable thing to do?”

April blinked, “It shouldn’t be considered honorable for doing what any big sister would do,” she said. “That’s not honor, that’s just being a good older sibling.”

In which April, Sunita, Casey, and the turtles end up in the 2012 verse after a mishap with Leo's ōdachi and stay with the 2012 turtles until they can go home. They find out a lot of things that don't quite jive with them. Some things are the same, some things are different and they're not quite sure how to handle those differences.

(Rise/2012, Work In Progress)

 11. Mind Meld Part Deux:

“Oh thank Galileo that you all are back to normal!”

“What do you mean we’re back to normal?” Raph questioned, pulling back from the hug. Mikey and Leo also pulled back to stare at Donnie. “We’ve-we’ve always been like this?”

Donnie went quiet. He shouldn’t have said that.

“Donnie, what did you do?”

The brothers found out about Donnie’s Mental Intelligence Reprogrammulator. Arguments are had, words are said, words that tear a rift between him and his family, and it’s up to Donnie to earn his brothers’ forgiveness. The only thing is, will he get it?

(Work In Progress)

 12. I'm a little kid and so are you(don't you go and grow up before I do):

The 2003 turtles somehow, someway ended up in the Rise verse, with Rise Splinter and his turtle tots, and stay with them while the boys try to figure out their way home. 2003 Raphael got attached to his tiny counterpart the moment he laid eyes on the tot. (Raph centric)

(Rise/2003, Work In Progress)

 13. Dimensional Self-Isolation

Post S2 Finale, Raph finds himself trapped in the 2012 universe and has a difficult time coping with all of the differences that this world has in store for him. From new villains, unfamiliar familiar faces, and the way the 2012 boys and Splinter treat each other and him, Raph has a heavy plate on his hands during his long term stay.

(Rise/2012, Work In Progress)

14. A Collection of Turtle Thoughts

A collection of drabbles and ficlets about Turtles I've been writing since October 2020. Ranges from humor to hurt/comfort, I have it all.

Requests are open. SFW only though.

(All Iterations, Work in Progress)

If y’all reblog, read, and share my work, I’d really appreciate that! Anything and everything is appreciated, money or not! Thanks folks 🐢💕

[bornspellcaster]

{ Noel to Kikimora } The shy and easily distractible eight year old moves to Kikimora, something hidden behind his back. He fusses and fidgets nervously, looking around the whole space to see if anyone is watching. Then he lunges forward and...hugs her?

It lasts a good ten seconds, then the child is replaced with a drawn picture of Kikimora done by his own hands in messy crayon and marker scrawls. A flower has been hastily taped to the paper, Noel not realizing that it's actually a weed. It looked pretty to him. "F...for Kiki...'cause I love you lots."

It takes a lot to bring forth the warmth that’s been buried within her heart these days. After a time, after so much loss, you need to build those proverbial walls. She’s watched too many children under her care perish and erode over time, their smiles gone like memories in the wind. The warm laughter of children began to bring with it the pain that comes with loss, and the fear of not knowing when the next one is coming.

Perhaps that’s why her approach on raising the twins is much harder. She can’t afford to get attached, even though she knows it’s not a battle she’ll win. She’ll fall in love again with soft chipped smiles, and she had the day she held them in her arms.

Her heart stirs once more as the child snatches her into an unexpected hug. It’s not often he wants to be cuddly with her, ‘grumpy old Kiki’, or ‘mean old Kiki.’ And up until now the mora spirit was sure he hated her.

She strokes the picture softly and gazes at its homemade depths. Childish crayon renditions of what they both look like, her limbs not even the same size and her head so tiny….but she loves it all the same.

Kiki smiles softly down at the eight year old snuggling her and cups the artwork close. “Thank you, child…” she murmurs to the little boy.

I love you too…

[onebizarrekai]

HELP ME i saw you like a wilashe fic and immediately rushed to your account! i used to follow you in 2017 and got very excited!! ugh witchs heart the absolute flavour

yes!! hello! witch’s heart is very good and wilashe is also very good and fun and because this fandom is so tiny and has so little content I’m going to go on a tangent about all the reasons I love wilashe:

major spoilers for witch’s heart again!

ok. first of all, another thing I love about witch’s heart is that like every mc gets enough attention and gets enough interaction with all the other mcs that you get food for like all the ships. that aside, with all of the wondrous interactions we get among the characters and how pleasantly not straight-coded every character is, I fixated on wilashe for some reasons that anyone who knows me will probably not be surprised by.

firstly, the “you and I aren’t so different” dynamic which I’m a simp for, especially in this context. when you analyze their behavior towards each other and especially how wilardo perceives ashe, they have a really interesting dynamic with each other in particular.

sure, we get nice material like the screenshot below, but there’s more to it than an objectively hot cg and a boss fight between these two.

we have bad flirting with ashe bradley 101:

getting into some actual analysis, ashe and wilardo are perceived in the game as these two ‘problem characters’, not because wilardo is problematic himself, but because the two of them are usually the cause of things going awry, due to them both having the same goal of getting the witch’s heart to grant their wish, and being willing to kill for it. this being said, the difference between ashe and wilardo is that ashe is very unhinged at this point as he refuses to accept the death of his family and wishes to bring them back, and wilardo longs for death, y’know, because he can’t die and hasn’t been able to for like a millennium.

however, this doesn’t stop wilardo from sympathizing with ashe’s actions, even if their wishes are quite opposite, and this doesn’t stop the dynamic of their conscious ‘rivalry’. in the bonus stage, they both find the contract in an offhanded scene, and the first thing ashe says is “now it’s just a matter of who gets there first.”

ashe is much more dedicated to his wish. wilardo is hesitant and has been shown to be able to be swayed by reason, as you see in the bonus stage right after the scene in which they find the contract, where wilardo literally barges into claire’s room with ashe. you know, the scene where ashe made this face.

sirius gives them a big spiel about the cruelty of their methods while noel and claire run away, and ashe throws a temper tantrum as he often does. wilardo clearly doesn’t really like this and isn’t actually on board with this.

so like, wilardo shoots ashe, making a new decision at the last moment. now, this is a thing to think about in the context of sirius’s conclusion, which comes right after the bonus stage loop. you think to yourself “omg, wilardo has a heart!” but here’s the kicker. wilardo still sympathizes with ashe. actually everyone kind of does, except maybe sirius, who died again, since claire knows at this point that ashe lost his family, and wilardo knows he came to the mansion for the same reason as ashe–getting his wish granted. even though wilardo decided not to kill over it, he was still willing to do that in the beginning.

often times, wilardo’s reactions to ashe attempting to kill for his wish are with sympathy, even though he doesn’t know ashe’s wish. in wilardo’s own route, ashe literally attacked him and claire (that’s where the stand up cg came from) and all he had to say about it was “I’m sure he was just going through some stuff.” (which is kind of funny, if you ask me.)

so, later, in sirius’s conclusion, AFTER ashe’s bad flirting attempt, wilardo turns against ashe yet again in favor of protecting claire and sirius. ashe is already injured since he just fought sirius and also wilardo just shot him two seconds ago, so he starts to try and convince wilardo to side with him again and re-convince him that his wish is more valuable than the lives of strangers. ashe could have just attacked wilardo like he tried to attack sirius moments ago; maybe ashe knew that he didn’t stand a chance while he was injured, and because wilardo has a gun (not that that ever stopped ashe in the other stories, though), but I like to think that ashe viewed wilardo with some small level of fondness due to their similar goals and was actually taken aback by wilardo’s change of heart.

ashe’s feelings are the most confusing in the latter stories, since he goes from seeming like this unfeeling monster who will do anything (like, in the very first story, he tried to kill wilardo, stole his gun and then killed claire with it) to more hesitant and much more vulnerable, especially with his nightmares, general unwellness, and how much more he talks about his family. it feels like when ashe is left to his own, and isn’t spending all his time around claire like he does in story 1 (his own route) you can see his relationship with all the other characters grow a little more than they usually do, and this happens especially in noel’s story, the bonus stage and sirius’s conclusion.

also, the piano scene. you’re playing as wilardo and you find ashe playing the piano in one of the rooms in rouge’s club area. wilardo compliments his playing, asks if he can listen, and from then on in the game, they kinda have some really meaningful conversations that are much more personal than one would expect from two people who barely know each other.

anyway, yeah. wilashe is pretty neat and I just went on a big ramble.

oh yeah, that moment in wilardo’s route where ashe realizes that he can’t kill wilardo and doesn’t stand a chance against him and ashe is completely terrified is like. heh. nice.👌

[melbee]

Melancholy Blues

David Lee Roth x Reader

Summary: The Highs were high... the Lows were low.. When dating a rockstar who is on the road a lot, there’s only one rule. Don’t cry. That means you’ve fallen too deep, and unfortunately you lost the shovel to dig yourself out a long time ago..

Notes: I love writing for DLR there’s not a whole lot of fics with him which sucks.. Hope you enjoy X

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, a little sad :(

Word Count: 1,934 words

I wish I knew when this was going to end. I sat so still behind my desk, staring at the crisp white wall, listening to the faint tick of the nearby clock as it counts down the minutes.. the seconds.. wasted time no.. important time..

I was stuck in a dingy office surrounded by a mass of nearby cubicles and desks wondering how in the hell I got stuck with a job like this, and how I managed dating a rockstar at the same time.

While I sat filing papers, setting appointments for my boss, writing up reports in hope I’d be the lucky girl picked for a star promotion- my boyfriend toured the world, singing to 50,000 fans every night- partying till the sun comes up definitely surrounded by the excesses of pleasure including girls.

I didn’t know how luck could be in my favor so much, that it managed to drown me at the same time. I scribbled aimlessly trying to muster up the strength to get this assignment done. I worked as a reporter, but I really wanted was a step-up... a position to manage my own fashion company. It was lost hope.

Somehow I managed to get through toward the end of the day, as I turned my head to see nearby coworkers at their desks begin to pack up, the sun beginning to prepare a descent onto California’s glimmering hills.

I sighed and stood up a crack within my legs sounded out, telling me I had sat for too long- as I gave my best attempt effort at a long stretch. I gathered my work and shoved it into my cabinet, fishing for my purse and keys and making my way toward the elevator.

Exhausted was an understatement. I couldn’t help however, to think of David... as often as I do. I thought about what he was doing at this very moment. Where he was, who was with him.. Jealousy reared it’s ugly head- or started to- but I shut it up quickly as the doors opened and I made my exit out of the building.

The drive home was short but my mind was swamped, I couldn’t get out of it, and I knew there was a simple solution for that. Wine.

As I opened my door I was greeted by my little cattle dog that Dave had gotten me for my birthday a year prior, Minnie. I smiled as I patted her affectionately, as a wave of emotions crossed me. I missed him, a lot.

I set my purse down as I made a bee-line to my kitchen- grabbing a bottle of the finest-cheapest wine I had and a glass as I poured generously. I traveled my way to my living room where I drew the curtains to the view so wonderful, of other apartment buildings, and the peek of the hills and the sun if you strained your head far enough. It wasn’t much..but it was home.

It reminded me of how David has wanted me to move in right before tour; I told him I was fine living here, and the adjustment of a big house just wasn’t what I wanted to feel at the moment. The truth was I didn’t want to be there alone, without him. Waking up to the smell of his sheets and his clothes that he left..

I had already found myself doing that while he was away from the various jackets, shirts and underwear he had left behind here. It was creepy. It made me sick to my stomach as I sipped my wine in a daze. I knew the feeling all too well, but I just didn’t want to admit it. I never fell quick, but with David... good god he made it so easy.

I checked the time on the clock nearest to me. He said I could call any time, but I always like to align it so I would get a sure answer from him- he should be somewhere in the U.K. right now..

I made my way over to the side table and set my wine down and my body down onto the couch, and grabbed the phone.

Oh shit, what was the number to the offices..? They always knew the numbers to call wherever the band was. Usually I would wait for David to call, but I needed to hear his voice desperately. God, aren’t I lovesick fool?

I dialed the offices and they redirected me to the number where the venue was, who then directed me to the phone in the dressing room. As I waited for someone else to pick up the phone I wondered if my girlfriends ever have to deal with this incessant worry with their boyfriends. Maybe so, but as prissy as it sounds, their boyfriends aren’t international rock stars.

“Hello?” I heard the sound of an unfamiliar woman pick up the phone, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart begin to pick up and race a mile a minute. Who was she? Did she know David? Were they having an affair?

It took me a time to realize I still had not said a word but simply breathed into the phone like some scary psycho stalker. “Er-Yes. Hi.. uh is this.. David Lee Roth’s dressing room?”

I heard a mumbled sigh from the female on the phone, “Look girl, I don’t know how to break it to you.. he isn’t interested as I’ve told the other girls. He has someone right now..”

My heart stopped beating, “What? Who? I.. who are you?” I asked as my worst thoughts and fears seemed to come before me, I felt my mind go light-headed.

“I’m the designers assistant? I don’t know who you are-but..” she began to ramble on, as I felt my emotions turn red hot.

“Look designer.. whatever the hell you are.. I’m y/n.. his girlfriend. I don’t care if he has somebody I need to talk to him NOW. Do you got that-“ before I could even finish my rant I heard a squeak and a jumbling that sounded like the phone was being tossed around before I heard a scruff voice.

“Y/n? This you?” I heard the familiar voice of David’s manager over the phone, and I lept with joy.

“Hey Noel! It’s me!” I said into the phone.

“Oh hey!” He chuckled a bit, “I’m guessing you wanted to talk to DLR huh?”

“Yes..” I laughed, but I soon realized that now I needed to address the elephant in the room. “Uh..Noel. Would you be honest, and tell me if he was.. with someone right now..?”

I heard a laugh, “I wondered the same thing for a while, as far as i’m concerned the man has had blue balls the entire trip. He’s as clear as a whistle.”

I blushed, “Well okay.. can I talk to him?”

“He’s coming in right now actually-” I heard a shuffle and the conversion between two people, before I heard a loud slam, and the phone being picked up again.

“Dollface?” I heard the beautiful, gruff sound of my boyfriend’s voice, and I couldn’t help but smile brightly.

“Yes Blondie, it’s me..” I laughed. There it was again, that heart pounding. It scared me shit-less because I knew I was a puddle of mess whenever he talked  to me; even if it was a thousand miles away.

“Oh Baby.. you don’t know how much I miss you..” He purred. “How’s my little Min Pin doing?”

I looked over to Minnie, to see her gazing at me, her tail wagging, “Missing her Daddy..”

I could hear the smile in his voice, “Baby, is everything alright? Not that this isn’t unpleasant but.. why’d you call?”

I frowned as the details from earlier flooded my brain, as I crosses my legs, beginning to chew my lip for a whole other reason entirely. “David..who is your designer’s assistant, with you on the road?”

“Sherrie.. I think is her name.. why?” He asked

“She told me you-” my voice suddenly cracked and I felt my emotions edging the surface of my eyes. Don’t break the only rule...

“Doll.. what’s wrong? Did she say something nasty to you? I swear ill sack her, and you’ll never have to see her-”

“David, she said you are with someone right now. She mentioned other girls calling.. David..please be honest with me.. Did you-” I began to say but I didn’t finish before he cut me off.

“Y/n I’d never in a million do that. Why would you believe her?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been having a really hard time since you’ve been away David, I can’t even think about normal stuff, without thinking of you.” I said into the phone as my voice ended to a whisper as if I had shared my innermost feelings to a stranger.

“You don’t know what you do to me..seriously.” He said to my utter confusion. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Doll. It scares me shitless. Don’t think I don’t feel the same way you’re feeling.”

I smiled, “The aches?”

“Chills down the inches of my spine, I feel as if I’m an addict who can’t ever get a fix. Y/n, it makes me mad.. because every-time I try and take my mind off you, everything begins to settle in that I’m terrified because I don’t want to live in a world without you.”

“David I’m sorry, I just. I know I’ve been so hesitant.. It’s just..” That was it for me. I felt the years worth of heartache, messed up feelings, love, desire, laughter all explode down my face as I sobbed. “I’m in love with David Lee Roth and I don’t think I can ever stop.”

I heard a pause, before he spoke again, “Then don’t.”

I paused as my heart seemed to stop beating that very moment. “W-What..?”

“Lets be in love forever. Quit your job. You wanted a job to build your own company? Well I need a CEO for my new business, and baby you’re at the top of my ‘for hire’ list. Come with me, let’s go around the world.”

“David..do you know how crazy you sound right now? Like crazier then normal?” I said as I took in his scheme that seemed off the hook, and way out of my comfort zone.

“Baby, I’ll take care of all of it. If you want a pay roll to feel secure I’ll give you one. how does 300,000 a year sound? You can buy you a nice apartment.” He said as he laughed.

“Holy shit.. David I could never buy anything expensive like your apartment.” I laughed as I twirled the cord.

“You’re right.. you’d be so sick in love, in-bed with me to even buy one.” He laughed loudly at his own joke, and I just rolled my eyes a blush forming my cheeks.

“I’ll be coming home soon, love. We can talk more about it then, hmm?” He asked over the phone.

I simply smiled, as I felt tiny tears come down to signal to me how much I truly cared for this man. “Okay. I love you..”

“I love you more.. Au revoir! We’re heading to Paris tomorrow..” He said as I heard a door opening and noises of people rushing in.

“Bye David..” I hung up the phone as I set it down, and I looked at the abandoned wine, and looked toward the windows to see the sun had finally set, and the night had begun.

I had broken my one rule. I wish I regretted it, but the high of it all just felt so good that I wished I would be too sick, too un-well so I would be able to feel the impending crash and  burn...

[lu-undy]

(This is my second time requesting after you opened your askbox, but you wouldn't know that :)) Lu and Medic play a violin and piano duet together (or Demo plays the piano and Lu sings) and Mundy kinda has a bruh moment wherein he realizes he loves Lucien

Hey there! Glad to see you come back :D !! Here it is, Spy sings like a God, hope you enjoy!

"So, what did you prepare for tonight, fancypants?" 

"Scout, ask me one more time and what you will need to prepare for tonight is your will." 

"Alright, alright…" Scout sighed. "You party pooper…" He mumbled to himself.

Sniper smothered his chuckle. Around the dinner table, the mercenaries were enjoying their dinner, their dessert to be more precise.

"Pardon?" Spy asked menacingly in his native tongue. 

"N-nothing…" Scout hid behind his yogurt, scared. 

"So, tonight is Spy's turn, right?" Engie asked, to brighten things up.

"Oui. I asked Demo for some help."

"You yelled at me for the entire week, mate. Please, Engie, never let him rehearse his stuff with me, send anyone else but me!" Demo took a swig of his beloved scrumpy. 

"I only pushed you to give your best for our performance tonight." Spy simply answered and he saw Sniper roll his eyes with a smile. 

"Alrighty then, if we're finished with dinner, you guys go and get ready, we'll come in about half an hour."

"Very well. Demoman, I will not wait for you." 

[Très bien.]

"Someone please save me from him…" Demo exaggerated his plea.

"C'mon, mate, how hard can it be?" Sniper said to comfort him. 

"Well, very hard! Next time, you go and work with him!" 

Sniper blushed as Demo and Spy left the room. 

It was a habit now. Every couple of nights, one mercenary would prepare something to entertain his colleagues. It could be a movie, a game of whatever to play or watch all together, anything. They had put that in place in order to spend less dull evenings in that harsh winter. Being the only building for miles around in the blizzard meant that they were stuck for the entire winter there. 

Pyro and Scout finished washing the dishes while people slowly gathered in the training room. It had been turned into a second living room with seats and a TV screen, if one could forget the boxing ring and other sports accessories and installations. 

"Right, I think we're all here. Sniper, the lights, please?" 

Sniper nodded and flipped the switch before taking a seat at the back of course, given how tall he was. The main light turned off and Pyro switched on a spotlight. 

Silence fell for a moment and then, footsteps. Spy appeared, better dressed than usual, which Sniper thought was barely even possible. He was wearing a black tuxedo and black and white polished leather shoes. His eyes shone beautifully under the spotlight. 

Suddenly, a few piano notes. A second light switched on and showed Demo on the piano behind Spy. The latter propped himself up to sit on the piano and grabbed the nearby microphone to start singing as the piano carried his voice. 

{To the reader: the song is "Windmills of your mind" as sung by Noel Harrison}

"Round, like a circle in a spiral,

Like a wheel within a wheel,

Never ending or beginning

On an ever-spinning reel."

Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Spy was speaking more than he was singing and it was so pleasant to hear… His accent helped to make it more true somehow, more mellow.

The notes on the piano accompanied the Frenchman's voice beautifully, coming and going again, in an endless and cyclic arpeggio…

Spy was saying the words like he would declaim a poem, his voice ever so slightly flowing on the notes, the syllables stressed as they should be, the rhythm impeccably followed. His brow would furrow at times, and relax at others, and if at first he started with open eyes, by now, his eyes were shut and he was drinking the meaning of the words he was saying as if it was the air he needed to breathe.

Suddenly he elegantly dropped down from the piano and stood proud in front of his audience. He held the microphone a bit further from his lips and opened his arms, revealing a vest that Sniper had never seen him wear before. Black with satin cashmere motifs that glimmered under the spotlight...

"Keys that jingle in your pocket,

Words that jangle in your head."

Spy's voice was slightly more powerful, it was only a small difference in volume, but Sniper felt his ribcage and his knees tremble. He shook his head to shoo those feelings away and took a deep breath.

"Why did summer go so quickly?

Was it something that you said?

Lovers walk along the shore 

And leave their footprints in the sand. 

Is the sound of distant drumming

Just the fingers of your hand?

Pictures hanging in a hallway,

And the fragment of a song,

Half remembered names and faces,

But to whom do they belong?"

Spy opened his eyes and Sniper's snapped wide open. His long, dark eyelashes seemed different, were they wet? His light blue, almost grey irises were glistening…

"When I knew that it was over,

I was suddenly aware

That the autumn leaves were turning

To the color 

Of his hair."

Spy's keen eyes never left Sniper's half mesmerised and three quarters thrilled ones. The poor Aussie felt as if he was the only person in the audience to a concert that suddenly became very private. His heart was pumping fast, unlike Spy's rhythm which slowed down. He was back to whispering, a gloved hand on his heart, and said, much more slowly this time:

"The autumn leaves were turning 

To the colour

Of his hair."

Demo concluded with a few bars on the piano and then came to a halt. Spy nodded to him and new chords rolled in the air. The rhythm was a samba's, much more lively and light-hearted. Spy snapped his fingers in rhythm.

{To the reader: the song is "So Nice" I recommend the version by Sangah Noona}

"Someone to hold me tight,

That would be very nice,

Someone to love me right,

That would be very nice.

Someone to understand 

Each little dream in me,

Someone to take my hand,

To be a team with me.

So nice,

Life would be so nice, 

If one day I find

Someone who would take my hand and samba through life with me." 

Soldier started rocking left and right on his seat, dragging Engie with him. Medic joined them and Spy, seeing that his rhythmic song was dragging everyone in a good mood, started smiling. Not only did his lips purse up but his eyes were expressing genuine delight somehow. 

Sniper was smiling too, a dreamy grin as he rested his chin on his hand and his elbow on his armrest, slowly melting on his chair. 

"What the hell…." He mumbled to himself as he straightened his back on his chair and tried to resume a more normal posture.

The music accelerated as Medic dragged Heavy to swinging on his chair too. 

"Someone to cling to me

stay with me right or wrong,"

The Aussie couldn't believe it. Spy was dancing. The man with a sense of humor as big as a green pea was dancing. And God those hips! He was swinging them almost seductively and Sniper's heart skipped a beat… How come the Frenchman was so flexible with his hips?! 

Sniper opened the first button of his polo shirt as a sweat started breaking on his brow.

"Someone to sing to me

Some little samba song!

Someone to take my heart and give his heart to me,

Someone who's ready to give love a start with me!"

Spy winked at Sniper who blushed and looked left and right to see if it was for someone else.

"Oh yes, 

That would be so nice."

Sniper now breathed heavily, the room was hot, way too hot.

"Should it be you and me?

I could see it would be nice!"

He removed his hat and carded his hair, feeling some fresh air flow through it to cool down his scalp. Sniper was blushing way beyond his ears. He looked down for a second, as Demo improvised on the piano and when he raised his head up again, Spy had disappeared from the improvised stage. The rest of the mercenaries had stood up and were dancing to Demo playing. 

Sniper was panting. The image of Spy, his piercing eyes riveted on him, dancing slowly, swinging his hips was carved on his eyes as if it was marble. And that wink...

He shook his head again as he started to realise why he was sweating like that, why he had enjoyed every second of Spy staring at him even though he would never admit so...

A whistle caught his attention. 

Sniper turned his head. It had come from the door. He barely saw a silhouette slip away. Without thinking, he stood up and followed it. He pushed the door and exited the training room. The sound of the music and dancing was deafened by the closed door now and Sniper focused on knowing where that shadow went. 

The corridor was very dark. He reached for a switch but didn't flip it. Something told him that it was better that way. 

The whistle again. 

Sniper went to find its source but as he came to find it, he heard the base's main door shut. He went there and exited himself. 

The night was pitch dark and the wind was howling. Sniper looked around him and saw nothing. But he heard the slam of a metallic door that he instantly recognised. Whoever he was following, they had entered his van. Sniper followed suit and found himself inside in no time. 

It was pitch dark inside but there was a tiny orange glimmering light and the smell of a menthol cigarette soon found his nose.

"I see you enjoyed the show." The voice with the French accent said. 

The orange light came from the end of Spy's cigarette. 

"Yeah, well, it was pretty good."

"Good enough for you to follow a shadow all the way here…"

"Yeah, it was decent."

"...without this." Spy finished his sentence and Sniper felt something land on his head. His pupils shrank as he realised he had forgotten his very hat.

"Y-yeah well… I had to make sure it was one of us and not… an intruder or something."

Spy spotted the bad lie as he would an elephant in a porcelain shop.

"How would anyone come to the base through this blizzard? Even the Mann Co. supplies have stopped coming. The roads are blocked, airdrop is impossible. No intruders can come here, by no means."

"Y-you never know." Sniper answered. 

"Non, but you did." 

"What?" 

"You knew it was me you were following. You didn't know where I was going and why I kept whistling at you for you to follow me, but you did and here we are: in that ridiculous dwelling of yours that you dare call a home."

"Oi, my van's the perfect place." 

"For what?"

Sniper felt Spy get closer to him. They were face to face in the dark and Sniper saw Spy's eyes reflect the faint lights coming from the base.

"You tell me." Spy answered with a smirk that Sniper heard somehow. 

"What d'you want?" Sniper asked. 

"An honest answer." 

"What's your question?"

"Why do you think I chose those songs to sing to you?" 

Sniper felt hot as he was put on the spot. 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I sang for you, that, you have noticed. But why those songs in particular? What was their message?"

Sniper sighed. He moved to sit on his worn out couch. 

"I-I don't know, okay? And that's a lot of questions. J-just go and leave me here." 

Spy sat next to him. 

"Let me ask you something else then, how did you find my suit tonight?" 

Sniper's eyes snapped wide when he felt Spy's hand on his forearm. It soothed him as much as it made him anxious. 

"Elegant, beautiful, classy." 

"Thank you." Spy said with a smile. "I did try to make an effort."

"Y-yeah, I noticed." 

"Did you notice my mask?" 

"N-no, I mean… It's the same one as usual." 

"Not exactly." Spy answered. "Switch on the light, you will see it better."

Sniper stood up and flipped the switch. When he turned again to face the Frenchman, he choked on his saliva and coughed multiple times. He put a hand on his eyes and another on his chest to ease his cough while Spy chuckled. 

"Mon pauvre ami… I half apologise for this."

[My poor friend]

"Oh, Lord, Spook…" Sniper said between two fits of cough as he still hid his eyes behind his hand.

Spy giggled. 

"You did have your mask back there, right? I didn't just imagine it?"

"I did have it. I removed it as I entered your van. You may look if you want." 

"B-but, isn't that against your rules or something?"

"My rules?" Spy repeated, amused. 

"Yeah, I don't know, whatever rules or codes or whatever you Spooks have."

Spy chuckled. 

"There are no such things, Sniper. If I hide my face, it is because I would rather people not see me and recognise me. It is better that way." 

"Then why show me your face?" Sniper asked his hand still hiding his eyes to not see his friend.

"Because I am still a free man and I do what I want."

"And you want to show me your face?" 

"Why not?" 

"Spook, I swear… You're a whole new level of complicated."

Spy put his hand on Sniper's and pulled it away, slowly. Sniper couldn't help but stare. It seemed as though he was discovering a whole new person. It wasn't Spy, it was… well, someone else. 

"Do I have something on my face for you to stare like this?" Spy teased.

"Well," Sniper felt himself sweating again, "I'd say you're missin' something on your face, but eh, who am I to say?"

Spy chuckled. 

"Would you rather I put the mask back?" He cheekily asked. 

"No - I mean, if you're more comfy with it, put it on but…"

"But?" Spy pushed his luck. 

Sniper was staring at his hair. It was mostly black but there was a front grey tuft and the temples too betrayed Spy's age.

"But I-I don't know… Thanks, I guess." 

"For what?" Spy asked. 

"For feeling like you can show me your face. I guess that means you think you can trust me - oh."

Spy had taken Sniper's hand off his face but he wasn't letting go of it. Non, instead he laced his fingers through it. 

"And now?" Spy asked. 

"And now what?" 

"Now, do you know why I chose to sing these songs for you?" 

Sniper blushed. 

"I-I don't know… I'm not sure. Can't you just say it? It'd be a lot easier for the both of us!"

"For you, oui, for me however, it would be quite difficult." 

Sniper rolled his eyes. 

"How hard can it be?" He asked. 

"Almost as hard as what I'm about to do is foolish…" Spy closed the gap between the two of them and pushed his lips against Sniper's. 

Sniper froze. His muscles froze, his blood froze, his heart stopped sharp, like a watch stops at the time of death, Sniper's body burst alive all at once. His hands flew forward to hold Spy closer, his eyes rolled and closed, and his eyebrows slowly rose and relaxed. Spy's naked hands slid up to Sniper's cheeks and he stayed there, hanging from Sniper's lips with his own.

Eventually, they broke the kiss. 

"Woah… Spook, I didn't know you, uh…"

Spy raised his light blue, almost grey eyes to Sniper.

"Did you even realise that you held those feelings for me too?" 

"M-maybe." 

"Sniper…?" 

"Right, yeah, I realised it when you sang today. I-I just felt weird and I knew…"

Spy smiled sweetly, as he brushed Sniper's cheek with his long and slim fingers. 

"I'm glad you feel the same." Spy said. 

"As if you were surprised… You look gorgeous with that suit on and now, without the mask, you're just…" Sniper's eyes darted to every detail of Spy's face. 

He bit his lip and suddenly pulled Spy's head to him again. He kissed Spy with such force and passion that Spy lost his legs. Thank God he was sitting down and Sniper was holding him, or he would have flowed down to the floor like a liquid. 

[sgam76]

A Little Sherlock Christmas Gift

This wee fic is set in my Felicitous Natal Celebration ‘verse, and will also be posted tomorrow on AO3. In this little epic, Sherlock is not quite 7, and Mycroft is 14.

Observant readers will recognize a little nod to a scene in Redemption, one of my book-length epics.

Joyeux Noël

“You have to say it,” Mycroft said, for the fourth—no, fifth—time.

The bundle of blankets in front of him, tucked into the only vacant stall in the small, battered barn, ignored him, as per the previous attempts. The blankets radiated an air of fury and despair.

In the next stall Daisy, his brother’s chubby, elderly pony, moved restively, hopeful that someone, anyone, would offer her a treat. She could be forgiven for being a little cross--that was the usual result of an evening visit to the barn, after all. Madagascar, Mycroft’s tall, bony gelding, rustled in the stall beyond her, dozing but hopeful.

“You broke Mummy’s cup,” Mycroft offered. “I know you were upset. Tante Giselle didn’t realize, and she’s sorry for that. But you must apologize for throwing it.”

A small, bony hand snaked out from under the blankets. No, it signed. If hands could be rude, this one managed it.

Mycroft sighed. “Lockie, it’s been 7 hours. It’s cold, even with the heater. You’ll make yourself ill again, and then you won’t be able to go to the Nutcracker on Monday.” He paused for effect. “You’ll hate that. And Daddy will be so disappointed—you know how hard it was to get tickets.”

The barn was still as the blankets considered. A second skinny little hand poked out. You tell her, they signed.

Mycroft sighed again. Daisy, giving up on treats, joined him. “I tried,” he said. “She says she won’t try to give you new foods again; she understands now, and she’s sorry for trying to trick you. But you still have to apologize.”

It was horrible/nasty, the hands said, using one of their own personal signs for “things Lockie can’t bear”. I almost sicked up.

“I know,” Mycroft said patiently. “I told her.” Daisy leaned over the fence to tug impatiently at the blankets with long yellow teeth. One little hand shoved her gently away.

  The “horrible/nasty” thing in question was freshly made eggnog. Tante Giselle had come to stay, and was childminding the Holmes boys until Christmas Eve, when their parents would return from France. They had originally planned to all spend the season at Grandmere’s flat in Paris, until Lockie had come down with a heavy cold that prevented travel. Tante Giselle had volunteered to come from her place at Oxford and stay the week, since she had already planned to wait to head to France until New Year’s Eve. As Mycroft had volunteered to stay with his brother, he would travel to his grandmother’s with his aunt once his parents returned. He was rather looking forward to it.

Tante Giselle was a good sort, for the most part; understood Lockie’s quirks, didn’t try to force him into doing things that made him uncomfortable. But she had decided it was time he expanded his repertoire of acceptable food and drinks (which even Mycroft had to admit was a very short list at present). When coaxing proved futile, she had decided to use a gentle subterfuge, filling Lockie’s cup with eggnog instead of milk and not telling him. She genuinely thought he’d like it—it was quite sweet, and very mildly spiced. But she hadn’t reckoned with his exquisite sensitivity to texture. The thick, almost syrup-like liquid sat momentarily in Lockie’s mouth before his face worked, he spat it across the table, and launched the cup violently away with a look of betrayal and a gag. Tante Giselle, flinching as the cup flew by and broke, spun on her little nephew, grabbed his shoulder and shook him roundly, ordering him firmly in French to apologize at once and clean up the mess.

Lockie, his face screwing into a dark scowl, lurched away and sped out the kitchen door into the garden. Mycroft started to follow, but his aunt stopped him. “Let him go,” she said. “He will get hungry, by and by.” Then she moved to mop up the mess in the floor.

Mycroft waited several hours; he had his doubts that hunger would drive his brother back inside, but he thought cold might do the trick. When Tante Giselle started working on supper, though, he decided the time for action had come. He checked Daddy’s workshop, then the garage, and finally the barn. He’d been there now for almost an hour, with very little progress to show for it.

He thought now of that supper, though—whether Lockie was hungry or not, Mycroft certainly was, and Tante wouldn’t hold the meal forever. “Tante’s making coq a vin,” he crooned. “With the little potatoes you like.” That dish (well, mostly the potatoes), oddly enough, was on his brother’s “acceptable” list, though they didn’t get it very often since Mummy rarely had the patience to cook. Mycroft suspected it was a peace offering of sorts, though his aunt would never actually say so.

There was a cough, followed by a little wordless sound from the blankets; encouraging, but not quite enough. “I don’t think she’ll let you eat until you apologize,” he offered, which was both true and false. Would she let Lockie have the coq au vin? Probably not. But would she send him to bed hungry? Never. A bowl of homemade cream of chicken soup would almost certainly be found lurking in the warming drawer, just in case.

The hands withdrew into the blankets. Daisy reached over for another experimental tug; this time the hands just held on from the inside.

Mycroft thought a vulgar word Mummy would be horrified to know he knew.

“Can you at least come out and sit with me?” he asked. “So I can tell you’re all right?” He did want that, but he also had an ulterior motive. It was easier to gauge his brother’s reactions if he could see his face and body language.

There was a long, charged silence. Then the blankets rustled and a dirty, exhausted little boy emerged, eyes red. He crawled over to nestle at Mycroft’s side silently, shivering as the cold air hit him. He shot one darting glance at Mycroft’s face before dropping his eyes firmly to his hands.

Mycroft reached over to fish the blankets from under Daisy’s indignant nose, wrapping them tightly around narrow little shoulders in the way Lockie preferred. “There, isn’t that better?” he asked, and got a tiny nod in response.

“Now,” he said, as Lockie leaned a little more heavily against him, “I think we must come up with a compromise. Do you know how Mark Twain described that?” he asked. Lockie liked Mark Twain, especially A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, which Daddy had been reading to him at bedtime the past few weeks.

The dark, messy curls shook in negation.

“He said that a ‘successful compromise is one in which both sides walk away equally unhappy’, or words to that effect,” Mycroft said. He quite liked that definition himself.

How? Lockie signed, without looking up.

Reading between the lines, Mycroft presumed his little brother was asking about the applicability of the concept to their current situation. “You must apologize,” he said, and ignored the rigorously shaking head below him. “No, that must happen. Tante insists. But she hasn’t dictated what you must say, or how you must say it, now has she?” he continued, thinking it through as he spoke.

Lockie made an inquisitive little sound, and glanced up at his brother’s face again. Definite progress.

  Ten minutes later, the brothers stood in the kitchen in front of their aunt, who was at the stove, spoon in hand. “Lockie is ready to say sorry,” Mycroft announced (choosing his words quite carefully), and pulled his reluctant brother out from behind him. “But, as you can see, he is still rather upset. It would be easier for him to sign, if you will permit?”

Tante Giselle’s face softened. She put the spoon down and knelt in front of Lockie, who refused to raise his head. “Of course, bebé,” she said, laying her hand briefly on one grimy cheek. Then she leaned back on her heels expectantly.

They had worked this out very carefully. Tante knew both French and English very well. But what she did not know was Sign, in either language. And therein lay their loophole.

Mycroft was just a tiny bit smug about the whole thing. But he could enjoy that later.

Lockie put his hands up and signed, slowly and clear. I am sorry you did a silly/stupid thing. I wish I had not broken the cup. It was an accident and not my fault. But I will try to forgive you. Then he darted back behind Mycroft, only to peer shyly back around towards his aunt, who looked on expectantly for a translation.

“He is sorry,” Mycroft intoned, as Lockie nodded solemnly. “He did not mean to break the cup. It was accidental. He hopes for forgiveness.”

Tante Giselle melted. She leaned forward and gave both her nephews a brisk, firm embrace, knowing Lockie’s aversion to soft or extended touches. “Of course, my dear,” she said fondly, then rose and lifted her spoon in triumph. “And now, let us eat and be merry, for all is well. Joyeux Noel!”

Mycroft, from behind her shoulder (and carefully out of her view) managed to catch his brother’s eye and winked. “Joyeux Noel!” he replied, and meant it.

[a-dorin]

confession | n.m.

word count: 2,382

warnings: angst, heartbreak, drinking, mentions of smoking, sexual tension, lots & lots of kissing 

a/n: so i’m pretty obsessed with both noel miller & cody ko from tiny meat gang. i know this is different than what i normally post, but i hope you all enjoy it! 

feelin’ lost, don’t know what to do. but i just got some head in the back of my coupe. still feelin’ dead when i think about you.. 

juice wrld’s lyrics filled your ears, ringing as the bass of the speaker vibrating the entirety of the room. you took another swig of moscato, warmth seeping into your chest from the alcohol. you felt tingly from your toes to your head, your vision blurred from tears. you were sitting on the floor of your bedroom in your apartment, reminiscing on past memories with a broken heart. 

your boyfriend, well now, ex-boyfriend of six years broke it off about three weeks ago, the pain still apparent as you drank away your feelings. of course it was the only way you felt you could cope, as you weren’t much of a smoker. you didn’t want to set up a tinder either, as hookups wouldn’t fill the gaping void in your heart. the meaningless sex would only create a deeper feeling of loneliness and despair. so, you turned to binge drinking, in vain attempts to numb your heartbreak. with a dismal appetite, the only thing you could stomach lately was the alcohol. you grabbed whatever sounded best, making runs to the nearest liquor store almost every night. currently, you were on your second bottle of pink moscato, about one third of the way down. 

as you sat on your floor, supported by your bed, you phone vibrated on the floor next to your thigh, curiosity filling you to the brim as you pondered who could have reached out to you. when you read the contact name, your heart skipped a beat in your chest. 

noel - i noticed your post on your story. i’m really worried about you. i’m on my way over in ten after wrapping up this video with cody. 

you scrambled to your feet, dread filling you once you realized that you were in no state to see noel. but you knew he was adamant about coming over regardless. he was your best friend, the two of you holding a tight bond. noel was one of the main reasons why your ex dumped you. he thought that the two of you were too close, that you were cheating on him with noel. of course, it was a heaping pile of horseshit, as the relationship between the two of you was extremely platonic. 

as a semi-popular youtuber, your platform mainly consisted of random videos, ranging from roasting other content, to fashion videos where you vlogged a trip to a thrift store. your following amassed to about ninety-thousand subscribers on youtube, almost over a hundred thousand on instagram. you met noel at a party, through kelsey, cody’s girlfriend. since you were a friend of kelsey’s she introduced you to noel, who was with aleena at the time. however, the two of you hit it off, establishing a strong friendship.

a good portion of your following could be attributed to cody and noel, as you were a frequent guest on their podcast and videos. many of your fans commented constantly about how you and noel were the perfect couple, but you knew it would never happen. besides, noel was getting over his own heartbreak. 

aleena ended things with noel approximately three months ago, so noel was in a different stage of healing than you. he was realizing his own self-worth once again, the sadness disintegrating by the day. you yearned to be in that stage already, but the breakup was too recent, the wound scored across your heart fresh. 

running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh as you attempted to look presentable. in your mind, you knew that noel wouldn’t mind, but you wanted to at least try. quickly, you wiped away the old mascara staining your eyelids. you washed your face, throwing on a new hoodie as well. you scooped up the empty bottles off the floor, tossing them into the trash can. the less noel saw, the better. 

a knock on the door interrupted the cleanup, a wave of anxiety washing over you. did you look presentable? would noel be able to see right through you? opening the door, you couldn’t help but smile as noel stood before you, an in-n-out burger bag in one hand, a handle of fireball in the other.

“thought you needed some pick-me-ups,” noel’s tone was cool as he strolled in. he inhaled, narrowing his eyes, “(y/n), it reeks of alcohol in here. how much have you had tonight?”

you swallowed, realizing you couldn’t lie as noel’s eyes glared at you, “only a bottle of moscato.”

“good god,” noel shook his head, “have you eaten?”

“not really,” you mumbled, subconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“you need to eat then,” he tsked, shoving the bag in your hands, “i picked up your usual.” 

“thank you,” your voice was quiet, “you can set the fireball in the kitchen.”

“i’m locking it up,” he chuckled softly, “you’re not allowed to have any more till after you eat.” 

slowly, you walked over to the couch, jittery from the nerves and alcohol. you weren’t drunk by any means, but you were definitely buzzed. the fact that you hadn’t eaten wasn’t helping your case either, and noel could tell you needed the food as you wobbled towards the couch. after placing the handle in your freezer, noel came to the couch, sitting beside you. 

“do you wanna watch a show?” you picked at your food, taking small bites. 

“mmmm,” noel hummed, “only if you let me know what’s been going on lately.”

“fine,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. plucking the remote off the table, you clicked on the hulu app, settling on family guy. 

noel sat close to you, your thighs touching, “so, how are things?”

“awful,” it came out as a whisper, “i’m pretty brokenhearted, noel.”

“i can tell,” he murmured, “you’ve been acting different. i worry about you all the time, (y/n). especially when you shut yourself in your room, drinking away. the binge drinking has to stop. i know it hurts, i know it hurts so bad, but you can’t keep living like this.”

tears brimmed your eyelids, threatening to cascade down your cheeks. you stared at your food, unsure of an answer to noel’s remarks. carefully, you formulated some form of a response, “it was all just so sudden. i thought that we were happy together. i guess he didn’t feel the same. you know, i thought we were going to get married. he was talking about buying a ring and-”

“but you complained about him all the time,” noel countered, “you were extremely unhappy.” 

you snapped your head up, “you don’t know anything about how i’m feeling, noel.”

his jaw clenched, “i know enough. i know that you were unhappy with him. did you forget all of the times you would come to my apartment late at night? how scared you were to go back to him after every fight? he was a piece of shit who didn’t know a single damn thing about you. he couldn’t even remember your fucking birthday. how can someone who claims that they love you forget your own birthday? he was a joke. a joke that you dated for six years. i can’t even fathom how you dealt with his constant bullshit.”

noel’s tone was full of nothing but venom as he spoke about your ex, his brown eyes ablaze with a fiery rage. you were taken aback by his sudden spout of anger, “noel, are you okay?”

“i just want you happy,” his words were soft, full of affection, “that’s all i want. you helped me through so much, and i just want to give back. you mean a lot to me.”

heat spread through your cheeks, tinging them a pink hue, “you mean a lot to me too.”

noel sat up, face to face with you, his hazel eyes locked with yours, “i want to say so much, but you’re buzzed and i don’t think it’s good timing.” 

“noel,” his name tumbled from your lips, “please, just tell me.”

he swallowed thickly, sucking in a breath, “i may have feelings for you. like a lot of feelings.”

your heart fluttered at his words. the night you met noel, you were sure he was the most handsome man you had ever met. with his olive complexion, alluring hazel eyes, and beautiful smile, noel was definitely good looking. you were more so attracted to his quirks. you adored his brash and bold personality, how he said whatever was on his mind. you found his crude humor to be witty and smart, enticed by his jokes. most of all, you loved the way you could be yourself around him. however, you couldn’t ever make a move. at the time, you knew it was wrong. noel had aleena wrapped in his arms, while you were in love with your boyfriend.

but the attraction only blossomed into feelings as you spent more time with noel. with every trip to in-n-out, every podcast, every video collab, you felt yourself falling for him. constantly, you dreamt of an alternate reality, where you pursued your feelings for noel. however, those thoughts were always swatted away. of course, the two of you always swore that things were strictly platonic, but things had changed. noel was single, and so were you. 

noel continued, “i always thought about the what-ifs you know? what if we were both single? what if you had feelings for me too? i probably sound like a colossal idiot and all, spilling out my feelings. after all you just got dumped and i am still-”

he was cut off by your lips colliding with his, leg swinging over his so you could straddle his thighs, situating yourself on his lap. your kiss was sweet, the taste of moscato on your lips. noel sucked on your bottom lip harshly as your fingers laced themselves into his hair, tugging slightly as he grasped your hoodie, the space between you two nonexistent. he pulled you closer to him, his kisses desperate, aching for more. 

adrenaline rushed through you, replacing the buzz. noel’s lips met with your neck, his breathing ragged as he sucked on your skin harshly. you began to grind against him, skin grazing the fabric of his joggers. he groaned softly, his hand snaking underneath your hoodie, squeezing a  breast over your bralette. you could feel noel’s cock strained against his joggers, hardening against your thigh. the intensity was driving you wild as noel left a trail of love bites down your hair, your fingers tangled in his hair. 

noel wanted you more than he wanted to admit. he ached to feel your skin against his. to feel you. to fuck you. he craved the intimacy. but he couldn’t. not tonight. you were sobering up, but you were still pretty inebriated. noel hated the idea of taking advantage of you like this, while your heart was still vulnerable, your feelings displayed on your sleeve. it wouldn’t be right. besides, he wanted you to remember the first time.

he pulled away, cheeks flushed, “i don’t want to start anything while you’re like this.”

a large pout formed on your lips, “oh.”

“it’s not fair to you baby,” he murmured, the nickname sweet as it rolled off his tongue.

“can we cuddle then?” you arched a brow, anticipating a yes.

“of course,” noel grinned, wrapping an arm around you as you snuggled into his chest, “we can finish what we started tomorrow, okay?”

his boldness sent a shiver of excitement through you, “you want to come over tomorrow?”

“of course,” he replied, placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “can i not come take care of you? i know you love cuddles and good food. i have the day off tomorrow and i want to spend it with you.” 

“sounds good to me,” you yawned, covering your mouth, “if cody wants to come over with kelsey, he can. hell, spock can tag along too.”

“whoa, whoa, whoa,” noel teased, “let’s not get too eager (y/n). i don’t think i could keep my hands off you that long.” 

“you don’t want them knowing?” disappointment laced your inquiry. 

“cody would destroy me,” a sigh exited noel, his heartbeat thudding steadily, “if he knew i loved you, hell, he would rip me a new asshole and call me a softie all the time. he’d also yell at me for not giving myself enough time to recover from aleena.” 

“noel,” your heart raced, your eyes drifting up, “you love me?” 

“i mean,” he stammered, realizing what he just admitted, “i do. i love you (y/n). ever since i first laid eyes on you, i knew i wanted you. it’s always been you on my mind. lately, i haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. i get so worked up over you and i never got that way with aleena. you’re just so beautiful and we click so well. so yeah, i do love you.” 

the sincerity of noel’s words caused you to melt in his arms, “i love you too, a lot, actually. i’ve been hopelessly in love with you.”

“hopelessly huh?” he chuckled, running a hand through your hair, “well, consider me hopeless too (y/n).”

“i’m pretty head over heels for you,” you mumbled, feeling sleep overwhelm you. noel sensed your shift in mood, beginning to run his fingers through your hair. 

“get some sleep baby,” noel cooed, “i’ll stay the night.” 

“you don’t have clothes,” a whine escaped your lips. 

“i’ll be okay,” he hummed. 

it was only a matter of minutes before your breathing slowed, alerting noel that you were asleep, content on his chest. he reached over you, careful not to disturb your slumber. pulling a blanket from the other side of the couch, he draped it over your body, ensuring you got more of the blanket he did. eventually, noel dozed off himself, filled to the brim with joy. you were comfortable, and so was he. the two of you slept in each other’s arms, your head on his chest, his arms around you. 

at last, the two of you were together, happy to be in one another’s embrace. 

[rainbowserenity]

uhhh so this is @comeonlight and @lightning4ever‘s faults 8))) I didn’t expect to write anything else this year due to massive amounts of stress, but....this happened. it’s silly but also kind of nsfw?? idk but HAPPY HOLIDAYS, here is some OTP ridiculousness and here’s to hopefully more in 2020! I love you guys, thank you all for the support you’ve given me and keep giving me <3333333333

--

The thing about having game night at Fang and Vanille’s place was that the size of the place was immediately obvious when they all gathered. It was fine for two of them, but nine people? It was a wonder the floor didn’t cave in.

They all usually got around this by having Snow sit on the floor, while everyone else crammed onto the loveseat and couch. Sure, there were extra chairs, but they were at an awkward height for the coffee table - not to mention that Fang and Vanille had an ever-changing roster of foster animals that like to use the chairs as beds.

So whenever game night happened at Fang and Vanille’s place, Lightning swallowed her pride and would do something she never thought she would ever do:

She sat on Hope’s lap.

It worked out, for the most part. After all, they were a couple, and stuff like this wasn’t out of the ordinary. It just....well, had a massive PDA vibe to it, and Lightning wasn’t one for that kind of stuff.

But these were their friends and it was better than sitting on the floor. The others teased them for a bit, but after the first few times, Lightning started looking more and more forward to those nights they’d drink and play cards at Fang and Vanille’s, because she’d have a dumb excuse to stay close to Hope without it being weird and obvious.

Sappy? Yeah. But Hope seemed to love those nights as well. She got used to having his arm slide around her waist, or his chin on her shoulder. It was comforting.

"Comfy?”

Lightning nodded. “Are you?”

He grinned. “Always.”

They were two hours into a card game and they were all relaxed and happy (and in Sazh and Fang’s cases, pleasantly buzzed). Lightning had even found herself huffing with laughter at one of Snow’s stupid jokes, which was quite a feat.

However, at one point, she was aware that there was something growing a bit uncomfortable. She kept moving around on Hope’s lap, struggling to find the best way to sit without making his legs go numb.

It wasn’t until she heard Hope suck in a quiet breath that she realized what was happening.

Oh.

Oh.

Lightning turned to face him a bit. Hope was gripping the back of the couch like a lifeline. She could tell that he was calling on every possible ounce of concentration to keep a neutral expression on his face, but there was no hiding the fire in his eyes when their gazes met.

She glanced away and swallowed heavily, struggling to keep her own expression level. It didn’t help when Fang took once look at them and started snickering, though luckily everybody ignored her.

There were, of course, a bunch of ways this could turn out:

One, they would ignore this like adults and keep hanging out with their friends. A plausible option, Lightning thought, although she had a feeling Hope would vehemently disagree.

Two, they could duck out early and leave, knowing Fang would probably laugh and spill the beans, but who cared? Maybe Hope had a teenage fantasy of having a quickie in the car. Lightning never had, but then again, she never thought she’d be in any sort of romantic relationship, so anything was possible.

Three - and this was by far the worst option - they could be totally obvious and sneak off into the bathroom. Or maybe Hope could sneak off in there alone, although his slack were very loose and comfortable and left pretty much nothing to the imagination.

Lightning was trying to think of a fourth option where she just sat here all night until Hope, uh, calmed down, when Fang suddenly got up from her spot on the couch.

“Yo, Sunshine! C’mon, you and me and Serah should go for a beer run, yeah? We’ve gotta restock, anyway.”

“Uh.” Lightning stared at her, knowing exactly what she was doing. However, the not-so-little predicament under Lightning’s lap was having an extremely curious effect of turning her mind to mush. If they hadn’t been surrounded by their friends, there was no doubt in her mind that she’d been moving her hips juuuust right...

“Store’s just around the corner. We’ll be back in plenty of time.” Fang smirked.

Everyone else was staring at them now. Clearly Noel and Serah had figured out what was going on, because Noel looked extremely awkward and Serah seemed about to burst with giggles. It was only a matter of time before the others caught on.

Would Lightning let herself be embarrassed this way? Hell no!

“Sounds good. I could use the walk,” she replied.

Then, in a move only befitting of a former solider, she swiftly stood - ignoring the quiet noise of protest Hope made - and slammed a pillow in his lap in the span of about half a second. Obvious, yeah, but if no one saw anything....

Fang’s shoulders shook. Now even Sazh was trying not to laugh. Maybe the pillow really had been too obvious.

Hope cleared his throat, sitting up a bit and hugging the pillow to himself. “We’ll just hold down the fort here. No big deal.”

Now Fang barked out a laugh. “You should come too, Hope.”

Bad, bad, baaaad choice of words, Lightning thought. She was about to retort when Hope suddenly stood, still holding the pillow casually at waist-level, if one could even do such a thing causally. “I, um - I need to use the restroom.”

“You need the pillow for that?”

For some reason, that was what made Hope finally blush. “I need it for....back support.”

The Goddess had no mercy on them, because Snow joined in the conversation. “Is that what they’re calling it?” He snickered. “I thought Light was you ‘back support’.” He made air quotes, like anyone could possibly not understand.

“Yeah.” Fang laughed again. “You gonna leave her hanging?”

There was a pause where things were nearly quiet - or would have been, without everybody snickering or trying not to laugh.

Then, to Lightning’s absolute shock, Hope suddenly grabbed her hand and yanked her across the room, shoving them both into the tiny bathroom and slamming the door behind them.

The catcalls and whoops were just barely muffled by the closed door. Lightning knew she probably should have been embarrassed and annoyed and whatnot, but Hope was staring at her with that fire in his eyes and that was all she cared to focus on.

“Hope - ”

“I can handle you sitting on my lap, Light. I’m not some kid who can’t control himself.” He leaned in close and caged her between his arms, her back against the wall. Her traitorous hands went to his waist, skimming the waistband of his pants, to which he leaned in and let out a low groan next to her ear. The noise shot heat between her legs so quickly that she lost her breath for a second. “But for some reason, tonight...I just couldn’t focus on anything but you. And then you kept moving and all I wanted to do was bring you home and keep us in bed for the next week.”

Even before they’d started their relationship, Lightning had been very aware that Hope was an adult. She did occasionally have fleeting thoughts of when he was a shy but determined teenager who knew nothing about the world, and those thoughts were always met fondly.

It was times like now, however, that she was very aware that he was very much an adult....and she was very much attracted to him.

“You still could,” she replied in a low, breathless voice. Her hands were trembling to unbutton his pants. “They’ll already know what we’re doing in here.”

Hope flicked his tongue against her ear and she moaned, trying to keep it down. The sound apparently made something in Hope snap and he grabbed her legs, lifting them up so she could hook them around his waist. She let out a sharp gasp, their heads instinctively turning to seek each other’s mouths in a desperate kiss.

“I can’t wait another second,” he growled against her lips, and there was something about him manhandling her that just left her gone. They shoved aside just enough of their clothes and it was all she could do just to hold on, not caring about the muffled sound of their friends right outside the door. All it did was remind her to try and stay quiet.

“Later,” Hope murmured against her ear, gripping her thighs tightly like that was the only thing keeping him upright. “Later, when we get home, I’m gonna drag you to bed and do things with you so that you can’t help but scream.” He moaned, not doing as well to hide the noise as she was....not that she was being all that quiet. “Do you want that, Light?”

“Yes,” she gasped, one of her hands gripping his hair. Her fingers twisted in the strands and her head fell back, knocking against the wall, but it felt like nothing compared to what he was doing to her. “Yes, please - !”

They needed to keep kissing in order to stay quiet, but it was impossible when her breath was continuously taken away. It was ridiculous - they were in a tiny bathroom, their friends were right on the other side of the door, and they were both in for the most embarrassing moment of their lives when they came out.

But god was it worth it.

When they’d finally come down from the high and she was able to stand without her legs feeling like jelly, they rearranged their clothes and Hope fixed his hair somewhat. The bathroom door creeeeeeeaked open.

Seven pairs of eyes instantly swiveled towards them.

Hope cleared his throat. “I, uh - �� Cough. “I have an extremely complicated series of buckles on this pair of pants. It requires three hands and a lot of effort.” Lightning thought of how easily she’d undone the zipper and wisely said nothing.

“Sure.” It was Fang who replied after an incredulous pause. “And I’m bettin’ those buckles were very entertaining.”

Serah was the first one to start cracking up. It wasn’t long before everyone - even Hope and Light - followed. Sure, she was embarrassed and they would never hear the end of it. Maybe she’d regret letting hormones, of all the crazy things, get the best of her.

But that repeat performance she’d been promised?

Worth it.

[smallblueandloud]

hi essbie!! you seem super awesome❤️❤️ if you would like to talk to me about the west wing i would love that! i’m watching for the first time now and i’m in LOVE with it- tell me all your thoughts! otps, favorite episodes, arcs, characters... anything!

oh my god, this is my FAVORITE ASK THAT I HAVE EVER RECEIVED EVER. i’m so happy to talk about the west wing because the fandom that’s still alive today seems to be TINY (although high-spirited!!). thank you for asking!! i will endeavor to talk a lot.... which isn’t hard for me, lol.

(psst, before we begin, can i recommend you check out @donnajosh, who posts gorgeous new gifsets of tww pretty regularly [and also has gifs tagged by episode so you can find the right post to reblog when you’re liveblogging, shh], @etraytin, who’s written some AMAZING multichaps that have gotten me through this very stressful week, and @cassiesinsanity, who’s just plain genuinely amazing?? okay. now that that’s out of the way.)

i tried to figure out from your blog where you are in the show, but i can’t find anything more detailed than “probably has finished in the shadow of two gunmen”, so i’m just gonna keep things anti-spoilers. there are some really, really cool plot developments in tww, and i don’t recommend you spoil yourself for things on purpose! but also like. i DEFINITELY spoil things for myself all the time. so what the hell, don’t listen to me lol.

(i tried to put this under a cut, but tumblr glitched. sorry, peeps who don’t care about the west wing. also, WATCH THE WEST WING.)

my ALL TIME, dearest headcanon is adhd josh. i just. i love my boy so much. i love my impulsive, ridiculously-sensitive-to-perceived-rejection, loud, hyperfixated boy so much. i don’t know everything about adhd, but from what i know josh is TEXTBOOK. or at least he’s a lot like me! and i’m reasonably sure i have adhd. so. i’m REALLY, REALLY into that headcanon and everything about it. (i actually wrote a fic in which i wrote him the way i see his adhd presenting, because i love him so much. hmm, i should write a fic about josh being adhd. what kind of stims would josh like??)

i love and adore josh/donna, like many many other people. i like zoey/charlie, just because i think they make each other happy and both of them deserve that. i... like cj/danny? sorta? i think they’re adorable, and they have some REALLY good moments (no spoilers but. oh my god. danny really out here chugging his respect women juice and i love him for it). but also i am EXTREMELY ATTACHED to cj/toby and more specifically cj/toby/andy.

HEAR ME OUT. cj has EXTREME wlw energy and cj and toby have A LOT of married energy but then toby and andy... love each other so much, it’s so clear, in literally everything they do, i don’t know if you’ve gotten to the end of s5 yet but i cry. so like?? obviously, because i am who i am, polyamory is the answer! basically the rundown is: andy and toby are a typical couple except that they fight a lot. cj is kinda in the middle. if gay marriage had been legal / socially acceptable in the 80s (because god knows this ot3 has been thinking about optics since they graduated college), cj and andy would’ve gotten married and toby would’ve come and gone depending on who he’d pissed off recently, and everything would’ve been perfect. instead, andy and toby got married and it didn’t work because they really just couldn’t function as a unit, especially since their getting married meant that cj isolated herself a bit more. definitely cj and toby have a couple of SCREAMING arguments about the whole relationship. idk.

but just like. imagine with me, if you will, cj and toby... not dating, while working in the white house, but being exes. friendly exes. friendly exes who are still in love with each other and know it. please imagine that and then think about “i love you desperately / i know” and “you wanna make out with me right now, don’t you? / well, when don’t i?” and “we had it good there for a while / yeah, we did” and then join me in the pit of sadness.

(sidenote i have a sense8 au for the west wing and the second story is just me being emotional about their cluster for 5k. i have another story vaguely planned that i’ll probably never write about the development of the ot3 and about their cluster and how it functions. but don’t read that story until you finish... the first half of s7? or thereabouts? actually probably you should finish the show before you read the sense8 au in general if you’re avoiding spoilers.)

(when i say “i’ll probably never write”, i mean “until the next time i get obsessed with the west wing”. which will probably be years from now. oh, well, we can all hope the muse actually does something efficient for once.)

so yeah. those are my ships. i know a lot of people shipped josh/sam, but i don’t really see it? sam always seemed Way Too Straight for that to work lol, although i DO like the idea of sam pining tragically for josh for years just like donna does. (can you tell i read such a winter’s day a few days ago? it’s amazing. i haven’t left a review yet because i have not been a human being recently, but go read it!! it’s awesome!!)

also, i love the idea of bartlet/abbey/leo, although i can’t really visualize it lol. but there’s some amazing fic for them out there. maybe one day my stupid brain will realize the angst potential and actually let me write something for them, hopefully within the sense8 au. (sam also has a cluster! and i would love to write about them! .....but my brain doesn’t do what i tell it to. ever.)

my favorite arc.... i don’t know. i really loved the early seasons, which were a little more episodic, but ALSO i actually really liked the tone after aaron sorkin left after s4? it takes some getting used to, but it’s WAY more emotional, and i am ALL HERE FOR THAT. i definitely have a least favoite arc, or at least a least-favorite way-that-they-handled-a-storyline (spoiler alert: i hated how they handled the end of bartlet’s presidency in the white house. like. SHE’S ALL ALONE IN THERE- anyways. trying not to give detailed spoilers!)

favorite episodes: hmm. i love the thanksgiving episodes. i loved any episode with the ainsley-and-sam dynamic. noel is a phenomenal episode. 26 could make anyone weep. the flashbacks are the best. the fucking- the fucking what’s next motif.

honestly, probably i’d have to say my favorite episode is either 4x20 (evidence of things not seen, for “stupidly noble cluster” reasons and cj/toby reasons and bartlet & charlie reasons. also i feel like there’s some good josh/donna there too but i can’t remember exactly?) or 7x21 (institutional memory, because i’m pretty sure the writers reached into my id and pulled out EXACTLY what i needed from them to be okay with the show ending. jesus CHRIST i have never felt so satisfied after an episode. literally everything i ever could have wanted happened in that episode. i’m STILL reeling. it’s a perfect episode.)

my favorite characters are... literally everyone? i know that’s cheating but i love them all SO MUCH (except mandy and amy, of course). josh is my favorite, always and forever, but i love cj more than words and sometimes i can’t breathe for love of toby. leo and bartlet and charlie and sam and donna- here i was thinking i was gonna resent will forever but i LOVE will. ainsley is an amazing woman. abbey is such a good character, god, talk about a flawed woman who’s allowed to be a good person.

AND THEN THEY MADE ME ROOT FOR A REPUBLICAN. again, i doubt you’ve gotten to s7, but the republican nominee in the last election... jesus christ. i love that man so much. arguably, i’m very biased, but also how D A R E they expect me to root against him. how DARE.

(i swear this will make more sense once you meet him. i just love the actor a lot, okay?)

anyways. this got ridiculously long. i would LOVE to talk about the west wing with you, feel free to reblog this with your own thoughts or tag me in your own post or message me or something. i would love to hear your reactions!! it’s such a good show, and such a smart show, and every character is so mcfreaking good at what they do and i adore it. enjoy the ride because there’s nothing as perfect and as quality as the west wing. if you’ll please excuse me, i’m going to go cry about 7x21 again.

[deathvalleyusa]

oh noel.

Summary: The Christmas after Starcourt, the Hargrove home is too quiet for Billy to handle. He's grateful Max is there to break the quiet.

Relationship: Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield 

A/N: I love writing these two and I hope this sorta fluffy/sorta angsty fic gives you some Christmas feelios. <3 Cross-posted from AO3.

Warnings: Swearing, some angsty stuff.

It was quiet in the Hargrove home.

Not the quiet riddled with electricity, a warning of an impending explosion between Billy and Neil. Just... quiet.

He wasn't sure how to feel about it, if he was being honest. Relief definitely came to mind, but there was a tiny glimmer of fear hiding. That, at any moment, that electricity could turn into a lightning bolt and strike when Billy was already prone.

Neil insisted on a fresh cut pine every year. Liked the smell, the fullness of the branches, the shine from the needles. It was the one thing he and Billy could always see eye to eye on, even when he was small. Billy liked the thought of a piece of nature indoors, decorated with tacky heirloom ornaments and multicolored lights. It gave him some semblance of peace.

Last year had been less than peaceful. After everything with Max and Steve and waking up to his car being stolen, Billy was in a shit mood for Christmas. Neil had been in one too. It had ended with him getting locked out of the house one night, freezing his balls off until he gave up and slept in the Camaro. Christmas was quiet. Neil had spoken maybe three full sentences to him the entire day.

And now, nearly Christmas Eve, it was quiet again. Susan was trying to fill the quiet with holiday music, playing loud enough to fill the entire common area of the house. Max was busying herself with wrapping last minute gifts. Neil was out shoveling the driveway. The house smelled like pine and sugar cookies.

“Earth to space case.”

Billy looked up, seeing Max standing next to him, hands full of neatly wrapped gifts.

“What?” he asked, irritated.

“Those pain meds are making you loopy again,” she remarked, setting them under the tree. “You look out of it.”

She didn’t leave. Billy blew out an exhale through his nose, eyebrow cocking as she stared at him. Normally, he’d be more agitated by her presence, but her genuine concern under her words was a comfort.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

Billy shrugged, pressing himself further into the couch. Max’s face was serious now, ginger waves falling off her shoulders. He only looked back at her, eyes heavily lidded.

“Do you want hot chocolate? Mom made some.”

Billy nodded. “In a bit. Can you sit for a second?”

She hesitated for a second before joining him on the couch. She settled close, a knee pulled close to her chest.

“Are you okay?” Max asked in hushed tones.

Billy clicked his tongue, running a hand through his now grown-out perm. The fact that she was the only person who could ask him and understand the full weight of his answers made him uncomfortable. A kid shouldn’t have seen the things she’d seen. She shouldn’t be the one to check up on him; he should be doing that for her.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Billy looked over at her before looking upward at the ceiling. “Then no. Not really.”

He hated that she looked crushed at his admission. All he had wanted was some physical closeness, not to feel that suffocating feeling of guilt that he wasn’t okay yet, that he might never be okay. He wasn’t even sure what okay was anymore.

Without a word, Max leaned over and wrapped her arms around him. It was a firm hug, enough to make his back ache a little. Billy squeezed his eyes shut, sitting there in his sister’s embrace, hoping to take in her optimism for his physical and mental health by osmosis.

He hugged back, fierce and desperate. Felt the hitch in her breath as his surprise embrace came, the relax of her shoulders. They sat there for a few moments, Bing Crosby crooning out a classic from the kitchen radio. Billy rest his head on her shoulder, taking it all in.

He thought about how last Christmas, he had wished he didn’t exist.

This year, Billy was grateful he still did.

“That hot chocolate sounds good right about now,” he whispered, pulling away to lean back into the cushion. He gave a half-hearted smile, getting one in return as deep blue eyes tried their hardest to understand exactly what was going on in his head.

“You got it, space case.” Max patted his shoulder before heading to the kitchen.

Fingers drummed out the beat to ‘Little Saint Nick’ as he waited. He spotted a small hole in his shirt sleeve, lips pursing as he realized it probably had happened while sliding his arm into the forearm crutches he was so reliant on at the moment. Honestly, he would’ve gotten up and got his own damn hot chocolate if he didn’t need the crutches.

Max padded back into the living room, a mug in each hand. The concentration on her face as she made sure not to spill brought a smirk to his face.

“Look at you,” he said, grin growing wider. “A waitress in the making. How much should I tip? I’ve got a few quarters on me.”

“Shut up.” Max grinned back, carefully handing him the mug. “I didn’t know what toppings you wanted so I just went with the works.”

He glanced down at the mug, eyebrows raising. Whipped cream, cinnamon, and a sprinkle of some sort of candy cane dust obscured the hot chocolate. “Shit, you really did. Thanks.”

A year ago, he probably would’ve complained. He didn’t need all this froufrou shit, but Max had gone out of her way. Hell, he had never been one to indulge in holiday comforts. But, as he learned, life was unpredictable. He might as well enjoy it while he still had a place in this world.

Billy took a sip, making a face as the whipped cream touched his nose. Max let out a laugh, settling in next to him before taking a drink. He raised his eyebrows, giving her a look before taking a scoop of her own whipped cream and smashing it into her nose.

“BILLY!” she shrieked, desperately trying to wipe it off as he cackled. “Dammit, it went up my nose!”

He only laughed harder, nearly spilling on himself. “You should see your fucking face.”

“You’re the worst,” she shot back. “I’m gonna replace all your presents with coal, just watch.”

“Where the hell are you gonna find coal?” Billy taunted with a lazy grin.

There was a pause before she reached out, taking a big scoop of cream from his mug and wiping it on his face.

“Hey!” He made a face as he wiped it away. Fire lit up in his eyes, rubbing the remaining glob into her cheek.

“Stop it!” Max squealed. “You’re gonna make me spill my drink. Billy, STOP!”

“You stop!”

“Hey!” came Susan’s voice. “I don’t know what you’re doing in there, but both of you quit it.”

Billy pursed his lips, looking straight ahead. Anytime Susan tried to break up their fights, he felt like a fucking child. With a sigh, he took the remainder of his whipped cream and casually mushed it against Max’s mouth. A grin so big it almost hurt bloomed on his face as she let out a disgusted screech.

[slytherin-puffskein]

don’t cry, snowman.

Don't cry, snowman, not in front of me Who'll catch your tears if you can't catch me, darling If you can't catch me, darling Don't cry, snowman, don't leave me this way A puddle of water can't hold me close, baby Can't hold me close, baby

summary: Instead of celebrating Christmas at Hogwarts as he usually does, Laurent King decides to help out at his aunt’s bakery. A surprise comes to him, hilarious for many, despicable to him. Oscar Whelan is here to give him support, but Laurent realizes that he might be the one to give support instead.

notes: Merry Christmas, you guys!!! Here is a mix of fluff and angst!

- - -

Hey Laurent.

Are you having a good time at Hogwarts? I sure hope so. I can’t say I’ve been having a lot of fun, honestly: Exams, studying, exams, studying. Oh, wait, I forgot something else. Exams again. There you go. Now you can understand what I have to deal with.

But let’s turn these frowns upside down! I often say that, huh? And you seem to hate it an awful lot, judging by the way you roll your eyes whenever I say it. Heh! What are cousins supposed to do, besides annoying each other? Anyway, I’m getting off topic. Christmas holidays are coming! Are you staying at Hogwarts, or coming home to your dad’s? I’m not twisting your arm or anything, but if I’m honest, the bakery could really, really use your help. We’re about to face the Christmas rush, after all… but fear not! We have an idea to deal with it. And believe me, it’s going to be really, really fun. You like fun, don’t you? So think about it, please! Mum, Dad and I will greet you with open arms. How about you spend Christmas with us as well? Your old man doesn’t seem to appreciate the holiday as much as he used to… anyway. Write me back!

Love,

Cyril.

Laurent should have expected that his cousin was manipulating him as soon as he had read the words ‘it’s going to be really, really fun’. Of course such sentence would be used to catch his attention, how had he been so blind? I promise you, Cyril had said as soon as he had set foot into the bakery, coat still on and heavy luggage numbing his fingers, it’s going to be a blast. Like a fool, Laurent had believed him, because hey, it’s Christmas. No one gets tricked on Christmas, right?

Newsflash: Laurent has been extremely, terribly, badly wrong. He has been, as unlikely as it sounded, tricked, and the fact that it was coming from Cyril came across as a huge punch on his pride. Since when was he able to do such thing? Wasn’t he, like, too earnest to pull this sort of thing? Decidedly, Laurent didn’t really know his cousin. If at all.

As he pulled out the Christmas Elf costume out of a fancy, shiny bag, Laurent went quite close to grab his stuff and leave. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Somehow, his brain had done all the equations needed, and he had exactly figured out what was about to happen. Remnants of memories came to him, ones of a conversation he had overheard between his aunt and uncle:

The holidays are always a good time to promote our bakery. Just what could we do, hm? Organize some kind of event, perhaps?

He had paid little thought to these words, but, Merlin, he should have. Maybe then, he would have answered differently to Cyril’s letter.

“I’m dead serious, Lau. Mum got the best of the best of ideas! I swear, let--stop walking away, let me tell you, sit down and have a croissant and just listen!” Reluctantly, Laurent did so, but took himself a macaron instead. “Now, what do kids like, huh? Sugar! Of course they like that! And what does our bakery sells, you ask?”

“Cyril.” A sigh heaved from Laurent’s lips as he titled his head, half annoyed, half fearful. “Just tell me what I have to do… though I think I have it figured out by now.”

A smile came to grace his cousin’s features. What a handsome man! anyone would have said. What a prick, Laurent was currently thinking. He knows exactly what he is doing. Oh Merlin, I should have stayed at Hogwarts. I could have been sipping hot cocoa with Barnaby. BARNABY! And now-- “Well,” Cyril spoke again, brandishing the costume proudly. “We made a deal with the local mall, we’re gonna host a Meet Santa stand! Isn’t that, like, the best idea ever? I’m tellin’ you so! Dad’s gonna dress as Santa, Mum’s gonna be Santa’s wife. And I will be the kind man offering free pastries to children to encourage them, and their parents, to visit our bakery! Which leaves you--”

“As the lovely Christmas Elf.” Despite how disarrayed he seemed, a smile curved his lips, because even he had to admit it: the situation was hilarious. Anyone would have laughed at Laurent, so why not do the same, huh? Maybe it will help me deal with this. Just… smile and laugh, my guy. Smile and laugh.

“The lovely Christmas Elf indeed! You’ll take pictures of the kids when they sit on Dad’s— Santa’s lap. You’re going to be great!”

Smile and laugh. Smile and laugh.

* * *

Smile and laugh. Smile and laugh. Despite repeating himself these words like a mantra, shame kept blossoming inside his chest, spreading through his entire body until it even reached his fingertips. I. Look. Ridiculous. This is the day I die, most definitely. Oh Merlin. Wait a second. Do people from my middle school come to this mall…? Oh NO, they definitely fucking DO, this is the fucking local fucking mall. Dear Merlin, this is it. Leave orchids on my grave. My life is over. And it’s going to end with me wearing shorts and thighs.

Striped thighs with the colors reminiscent of a candy cane, along with a bright green shirt and shorts as well as a ridiculous hat. To top it off, he had to wear pointy shoes… and fake elf ears. Not to mention the glitter his aunt insisted to put on his cheeks.

My, you look lovely, she  had said while combing his hair with her fingers, trying (and failing) to make them look more proper. Your mother would be proud. You know, she had quite the Christmas spirit! She wanted to name you Noel, but eventually settled on Laurent. Laurent hadn’t said anything, had simply forced a smile, but only one comment only floated over his mind: she wouldn’t have been proud to see me wear such a ridiculous outfit, believe me.

Prideful, much?

Seeing the kids happily yelling at the sight of who they believed to be Santa Claus made all of this somewhat worthy, however. After photographing kid after kid sitting on his uncle’s lap while listing to him the gifts they wanted, he had almost, almost forgotten about his ridiculous outfit. Hell, he even became sort of playful; chatting with children and pretending to be an actual Elf from the North Pole. They were mesmerized, needless to say, and none of them had seemed to notice just how fake his ears were. Well, I’m making them dream. That’s good. Dreaming is the best thing to do.

He had forgotten about one tiny, tiny thing, however. The day before, he had been… well, no need to sugarcoat it: he had been horrified at the thought of looking so ridiculous. And so, in the depths of his despair, he had called his best friend Oscar Whelan and had… well, ranted quite a lot. And made sure to apologize at the end of the conversation once he realized how had been acting. God, I must seem like the biggest drama queen, huh? You’re not seeing it right now, but I’m blushing like hell. He had heard Oscar’s laugh, then his voice. Come on Lau, I called you to whine when I lost my favorite book. I was almost crying. Tell me who is overreacting, now? Alright, maybe still you because it was an amazing book, but you get my drift.

That had made him laugh. Oscar always made him laugh. But as he showed up near the stand, his little sister propped up on his hip, Laurent wasn’t laughing at all. In fact, he was pretty sure his features had gone white. Oh. My. God. Of course he would show up, his sister loves Santa Claus! The thought of hiding behind one of the fake Christmas trees crossed his mind, but he ultimately shoved it away. No, come on. I can do this. I handled kids seeing me like this, why not Oscar? Why should I be embarrassed? Ignoring his heart that was hammering against his ribs, he made a step towards the lineup only to notice Oscar had vanished… and had, actually, made his way over the fake snow to him.

“Hey—”

Laurent cut him, however. Since they were standing a few steps from Santa’s chair, he immediately grabbed Oscar’s wrist and pulled him away so that people won’t think he was thinking of cutting the line.

And as they were far enough, Laurent’s burning cheeks came to hit him full force. “Why are—”

Oscar’s smile was already present, and wasn’t about to leave, Laurent was quite sure of it. As opposed to Cyril’s smile, however, it wasn’t annoying him. Not at all. In fact, it warmed him up, and made him believe that, hey, maybe Oscar seeing me in that costume isn’t that bad after all.

“Aw come on, you exaggerated on the phone! You’re adorable!”

Nevermind. Laurent playfully smacked Oscar’s arms, a smile on his lips. “Don’t say that! I look like a huge idiot, have you seen my hat? The glitter?”

“When Aine begged me to go see Santa at the mall, I firstly knew I couldn’t resist to her smile. And then, it dawned on me: I had to accept anyway, I couldn’t miss the opportunity of seeing such an adorable elf~”

At the mention of ‘elf’, Aine finally pulled her face away from her brother’s shoulder, landing her gaze on Laurent. Immediately he got ready to put on his Christmas Elf act, but was most surprised when the girl blew a raspberry, clearly unimpressed.

“You aren’t a real elf! You’re Laurent, Oscar’s friend! I know, because, because he tells me a lot about you and--”

“And suddenly you aren’t tired anymore, little one?” Oscar piped up. Laurent was so busy shoving back his embarrassment as far as possible, he had made no notice of his friend’s blushing cheeks. “Shall I assume that you pretended to be so that Big Brother Oscar would carry you? Hmmm?”

Little Aine giggled, and began grabbing at Oscar’s hair. As messy as always, just like Lau’s. “Sorryyyyyyyyy.” And then she shifted her attention back to Laurent, staring with wonder at him. “You’re really cute!”

“Isn’t he?” Oscar commented. “Look at that costume. Makes me want to pinch his cheeks.”

“Oscaaaar!” Aine suddenly exclaimed. “We need to get in line! I don’t wanna miss Santa!” Her excited expression just made Laurent realize how adorable children were. Maybe he could have one, someday.

If he ever finds someone to love. Right now, he has very little hope, but that was surely stemming from typical teenage angst, to think you aren’t made for anyone.

Oscar pretended to let out an exasperated sigh, but never did his smile leave his lips. Aine giggled, then yelped as Oscar put her on his shoulders. “Alright, kiddo, let’s go meet your idol. Do you think he accepts autographs? I’ve got a friend, she loves Santa and would love an autograph… what d’ya think, Lau?”

Aine’s giggle only became greater, and Laurent couldn’t help but play along, scratching his chin. “Mhm, that’s a good question, Oscar. I am no true Elf, so I cannot say for sure since I do not know Santa that well… but I’m certain he’d be glad to.” And he winked.

Oscar winked back. “Got it. See ya, cutie.”

Laurent’s reply was instant: “I’m not cute! Not in this costume! I’m ridiculous!”

"Hmm, alright, Ridiculous.” Oscar titled his head, and while many would have told him to shut up, Laurent was too busy admiring the glitter of joy in his eyes. And after all, despite how he was acting, he wasn’t annoyed at all. Oscar would never do anything to truly annoy him, he knew very well of his boundaries. “No, I don’t like that nickname. Nuh-uh. What can I call you, I wonder? How about Elf Man? Got a nice ring to it if you want my opinion. Alright then. Elf Man it is!”

Laurent’s reaction came so suddenly, it even took him by surprise. One minute he was smiling, the other he was roaring with laughter, hands on his ribs and eyes squeezing shut. Oscar Whelan truly was able to make him feel happy, wasn’t he? He tip toed to ruffle his hair, then, with a flick of the hand, gestured him to go. “Go, now! My lunch break’s soon, how about we all grab something together?”

Oscar’s smile was the softest thing he had ever seen. “I’d love that.”

* * *

Right, they didn’t immediately eat. Oscar’s little sister was so excited about the fact that she had finally met Santa Claus that they had to tire her a little before they could sit in peace, and so they had visited some of the many, many shops that the mall held… while Laurent was still in his costume. He has been so enthusiastic about spending time with Oscar, the thought of changing clothes hadn’t even brushed his mind.

Another thought did, however, but he quickly shoved it away: the desire to tell Oscar everything. About himself. About his friends. About his school. About what was, basically, his secret life. The life he was hiding from his best friend. Maybe we can just sit there, and, after we eat, I tell him everything. Hey, Oscar. I’m a wizard. I’m a wizard and I go to a school for wizards. My friends are wizards. Oh Merlin, I’m saying the word ‘wizard’ an awful lot, am I? Anyway. Please accept me. Please remain my friend. Please don’t be freaked out. And don’t tell anyone. I know you won’t do such thing, but still.

The bitter truth, the one that he cannot tell him anything, quickly hit him, tightening his chest and making him stop in his tracks to breathe deeply, thus birthing Oscar’s concerns. Are you ok, Lau?

Yes I am. Don’t worry about me. He remained still for a moment, shoved all of his fears aside, and kept on walking. In order to make him laugh, as they visited a toy store, Oscar decided to joke around with a teddy bear, holding it and talking with a ridiculous voice. It worked, and even Aine began to laugh as well, and eventually got hungry. They all finally sat down to eat at the food court, savoring the delicious pizzas they bought. Dessert came fairly quickly, and while Oscar paid Aine a delicious chocolate milkshake, he and Laurent found themselves enjoying a bowl of candy cane flavored ice cream. Each holding a spoon they happily ate, and conversation came soon enough.

“How are things with Alyssa?”

Alyssa Buckley, known to Laurent as Oscar’s girlfriend. According to his letters they have been dating for two months, but Laurent had never gotten the opportunity to ask questions about her. After all, he would rather talk of this girl with Oscar while face to face… and that was exactly what he was doing at the moment.

Unexpectedly, his friend’s smile wavered, and he took himself a spoonful of ice cream. “We broke up. About a week ago. I got so caught him in the Christmas craze, getting gifts for everyone, that I forgot to tell you… sorry.”

Oh Merlin. I fucked up. Now he’s going to be sad over his breakup. Stupid Laurent, stupid Laurent! An apology immediately came, but he was surprised to see Oscar shrug.

“I’m not… I’m not as hurt as I think I am supposed to be, oddly enough.” He took himself some more ice cream, but didn’t eat it immediately. He simply stared at his spoon, the usual sparkle in his eyes flickering, threatening to die down. “I must sound like a jerk, no? I just… I had the feeling it will end up like this. I had time to prepare myself for it. After all, it always ends up like this with people I date.” That last sentence held great bitterness, and Laurent could only helplessly stare. He had never dated. Never kissed. How could he possibly be of help? “No matter how hard I try,” Oscar spoke again, lowering his spoon and looking down at his hands. “My… My mind always turns back to the same person. Every time. Even though I know I have no chance.”

Now, he had to say something. The words naturally came, without him having to think them through: “You don’t know that, Oscar.” To punctuate his words he reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers slowly.

Oscar took a brief look to their linked fingers, sighing. “Believe me, I do.” His gaze went to meet his, and Laurent’s heart bled with disarray as he saw the look in his eyes.

The joy had vanished, giving way to pure despair coupled with a silver of acceptance. He was heartbroken, but willing to endure it, to give up on his love, as if he felt he wasn’t worthy enough. How painful, Laurent told himself. I can’t imagine how that must feel...

A horrible silence, caused by Oscar’s sadness, settled in and Laurent knew one and one thing only: he could in no way handle seeing his best friend like this. I need to cheer him up. That’s what I gotta do! I’m his best friend, it’s time to fucking deliver! His mischievousness provided him with an idea, and he was quick to take a spoonful of ice cream. He moved as if to eat it… but then suddenly pressed it against Oscar’s nose. “Y’know, if your nose gets red because of the cold, you could be Rudolph for the Meet Santa stand~”

Merlin. It’s a terrible joke. Fuck. He had feared his plan wouldn’t work, but his shoulders relaxed as Oscar began to laugh softly, previously flickering lights of joy steadily going back to life in his eyes as he reached for his own spoon. “You want to play that game, King? I’m sure you will look adorable covered with ice cream~”

He inched closer and Laurent raised his arms to protect himself, pure laughter shaking his shoulders. “Ack, no! You’re gonna ruin my makeup, Whelan! And the costuuuuume!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your amazing costume.” Oscar giggled, moving his spoon towards Laurent. “I insist however, you take it, I’m not that hungry.”

Laurent was fairly quick to eat the ice cream. After all, how could he possibly miss such opportunity? He gave Oscar a smile, one that, he hoped, conveyed all the love he held for him.

“Keep hope, Oscar.” He said. “You’re an amazing man, anyone would be lucky to date you. I’m sure the girl— or guy that you like reciprocates your feelings. If not, they’re an idiot.”

Silence clung to the air again, but it was a comfortable one. At last Oscar turned to his sister, who was drowsing on her chair. “Well, I guess I have to bring this kiddo back home. How bad do you think my mum will kill me if she learns I let her drink that monstrous amount of milkshake?”

“Really bad. I’ll bring flowers to your funeral.”

“You better.”

They stood up and while Laurent expected Oscar to pick up his sister, he instead stepped forward to pull him into a hug. Right, it’s true, we always do that before we leave. But this hug… it’s… It was the most loving hug he had gotten from Oscar Whelan. Right, all of his hugs were loving, but that one’s love felt stronger. Much stronger, and Laurent allowed himself to sink into that love by hugging him as tight as possible. They swayed together for a while, just a little.

I love him so much. He’s the greatest friend.

As they pulled away, Oscar pressed a kiss on Laurent’s forehead, then carefully picked up his sister. “See you, Lau.”

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Toothpaste, Keys, and Rivalry

Author: MorphineLoveXXX

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Mike/Dave

Mike paid no attention to the door opening, scrubbing his face over the sink. His eyes met Julian's and he smiled, exchanging his razor for a toothbrush from his bathroom bag. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Julian smiled back, looking exhausted and possibly still hung over. Mike sympathized. Julian turned his sights to the running shower, calling over the noise, “Good morning, Dave!”

“Alright, mister Barratt!” Dave chirped a little louder than necessary, causing both men outside to wince. Mike shook his head and squeezed toothpaste onto his brush. “See what I've been dealing with? He woke up like that, s'been driving me mental.” Julian chuckled before catching his eyes in the mirror again, leaning against the door frame. Even still, he towered over Mike. Like a mountain rather than a human being, it both amazed and annoyed Mike to no end, the way Julian made him feel fifteen.

“I came in to ask you where you've left the keys to the bus. You two took them last and your brother forgot some conditioner I can't even pronounce the name of.” Mike laughed around his toothbrush, not in the least bit surprised. He spit some of the excess foam into the sink and shrugged. “I think they're one of my pockets still.” Mike glanced at the still running shower. “Dave? Where'd you toss my jeans? The red ones.”

There was a pondering noise before their answer came. “Foot of the bed. I just kicked 'em off an' they got swept under it.” Trusting Dave, the small Fielding motioned to the bed they'd not bothered making yet with his toothbrush, seeing a little corner of red peeking out from under the half-shoved off comforter. “Front right, should be.”

Noel came bounding through the open door in sleep pants, hair still wrecked from the night before, left overs of his make up smudged around his eyes. “Where's the keys?” Mike rolled his eyes. “Morning, starshine. Sleep well?” Noel didn't do more than shoot his brother the bird, making Mike laugh. “Keys are in the front right of the trousers under the bed.” Julian pointed to where he'd been directed himself. As Noel scrambled for the keys like they'd save his life, Mike rinsed his mouth and put the toothbrush back in his bag, searching for mouthwash.

By the time he'd completed his ritual, Mike was grabbed around the waist by his older brother, an affectionate kiss landing on the shoulder of his sleep shirt. “You look like shit. Smell worse.” He said by way of morning, smiling fondly when Mike just scowled at him in the mirror before squirming out of his arms. “I was working on it, you cunt, before you came in here and distracted me.”

“I'm telling mum how filthy your mouths' got, Mikey.”

“Right after you tell her where yours has been, Noel?” Turning to the shower like he'd just realized it was running, Noel blinked. “Same places as yours, I imagine.” Dave was only silent for a second before making a gagging noise. “I hope not. That's illegal here, I think.” Noel moved to the shower curtain and shoved his hand in, drawing a yelp from Dave. “Watch it mate, it's early! That's still tender.”

Mike could hear Julian snort behind him as he slipped out of his shirt, and admittedly couldn't keep a smile off his own lips. It was, after all, rather childish. When Noel brushed past him shaking his arm of the water, Mike shucked his pants and stepped into the running shower. Dave groaned loudly a moment later, and it was all the smaller man could do to keep himself from laughing when Noel's outraged cry was shushed by a pacifying Julian.

Hands brushed through Mike's curly hair, shampoo still left on them from Dave's own wash. They stood back -to-chest, Dave's nimble fingers massaging Mike's skull as he scrubbed away the filth and stench of alcohol from the night before. “Shouldn't tease him so much.” Mike mumbled before being guided under the spray to rinse, eyes closing to the sound of Dave's laugh. “You know he designs the costumes. You think Bollo's bad, give him a week. He'll have you in somethin' a thousand times worse.”

Dave pulled his small costar out from under the water, squeezing his shoulders. “You might have a tiny point.” Mike looked between them, then back to Dave's face, offended.

“Large point, I think.”

“Average point.”

As he shoved Dave against the tiles and attacked his mouth, Mike wondered how loud they'd have to be for the sound to travel to his brother's room.

[harringrovehouse]

AU where Steve’s Mother is from a small town in the Northern most part of Alaska and they’re just a little too much into Christmas.

Steve takes Billy ‘home’ the second year they’re together, because now Steve’s sure Billy’s the one, the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with and Steve wants his extended family to get to know Billy. So he takes Billy with them to Derevnyasanty, Alaska to the village his grandparents own. It’s rustic, and red and everything is covered with wreaths and holly, and all the residents are much shorter than the standard American. Steve talks Billy’s ear off about his four Aunts and their nine daughters.

“Dancers! All nine of them! It’s nuts man, let me tell you how many times I had to watch their routines growing up!!” Billy watches Steve ramble with a dopey smile on his face. “I have to warn you that my Nana, Mary, she’ll probably try to force feed you milk and cookies the second you get inside the house, we can work those off later, and my Aunt Noel will need our help checking her many, many lists! She’s got one for every member of the family, sorry. I hope Auntie Christy isn’t gonna ask you to dress up as Santa with me, they think it’s funny cause I’m the only boy. Every year I get this huge red coat and this massive black boots but we go to the local children’s clinic and I get to play ‘Santa’ for the day so it isn’t too bad. Aunt Carol is in charge of the deer, she makes sure they’re all penned up for the night and by the time we get there she will just be starting to round them up, can’t wait to see you rope a deer.”

“Just after my body, and at Christmas none the less.” Billy winked and Steve snorted, leaning into the wheel as he laughed.

“My Aunt Tinsel is the youngest, so her kids are pretty young too. They always need help repairing gifts and she’s also in charge of wrapping for the older kids so she’ll definitely need our help at some point.” Steve tossed Bilyl an apologetic look as he turned the car down brick road.

“Tinsel?”

“Yeah. Like the decorations. My family is pretty into Christmas, all my Aunts are born in the summer but they all have Christmasy names. It’s weird but kinda cool.” Steve shrugged. “Even my mom’s name is Christmas themed. She’s Eve, and my Aunt Christy is Christmas. They’re twins.” Billy opened his mouth to ask why on Earth anyone would name their babies Christmas Eve when Steve turned the car again and they came to a stop in front a huge white gold gate. It stood open, a clear invitation that anyone was welcome. Billy stared in awe at the gate, marveling at the beautiful red ribbon that wrapped around the bars, making the whole gate look like a million dollar candy cane. “They never close the gate, I don’t even think the pinpad works anymore.” Steve smiled as he continued up the drive.

Billy marveled as the large main house came into view. It was a huge stone and log cabin, it’s many windows adorn with lights and bushy wreaths. Tiny candles sat on each sill, a bussle of holly under them. Steve beamed at him and Billy stared back, this was a damn winter wet dream.

“Come on, we’ll grab the bags later!” Steve smiled wider and Billy wondered when his cheeks became so red.

“Wear your scarf babe! You’re cheeks are so rosy.” Billy followed Steve out of the car, tightening his scarf as he made his way towards the red front door. A huge pine cone wreath hung between the stain glass panels set in the door. The heavy smell of baking hung around the house, and warmed Billy’s insides. Behind them Steve’s mother and father climbed out of their own car, Eve Harrington smiling ear to ear as she rushed forward, throwing the door open for them.

“Mama! Papa!” She called out. “Tinny! Carol! Christy! Noel!” The sound of dozens of voices chattering away stoped and then an explosion of noise happened, and what seemed to be hundreds of people decended upon them. Billy let out a small yelp as a wave of hands pulled Steve and Eve into the house, leaving him and Jack Harrington standing on the porch.

“Don’t relax just yet.” Jack sent Billy a dark look. “They’ll realize we’re here any second.” And sure enough, a woman slightly older than Eve turned to look at them. Her huge amber eyes widening as she detatched herself from the huge group and made her way to them. She beamed at Billy, and gave Jack a curt look.

“And this must be Billy! Our little Stevie new turtle dove!” Billy nodded, he’s never heard anyone refer to someone’s boyfriend as their ‘turtle dove’. “Hi Jack Frost, blow into to any foreign ports lately?” Billy tired not to snort at the look Jack Harrington gave his sister in law. “Come in! Mama is just finising dinner, once that’s done we’ll put the deer away and then we can eat.” So this must be Aunt Carol, the deer hearder.

Billy followed Aunt Carol into the house, eyes wide as he took in the many, many pictures on the walls. Images of a young Steve sitting a top a man dressed as Santa’s knee, pictures of young Eve and her sister playing with some deer, a huge red wood sleigh filled with boxes and boxes of gifts sitting outside a hospital surrounded by the family and a few of the patients. They looked like such a happy family, it made Billy feel like an imposter.

“Aren’t they lovely!” A warm voice whispered in his ear, and Billy jumped. Behind him stood a plump woman, her grey hair tucked under a limp red cheifs hat. Nana. “We take one every year! The one from last year us above the mantle, come on.” She lead Billy through a maze of halls and into a massive living room. A fire roared in the harth, and a massive 10 foot tall Christmas tree sat in the corner. Presents of every color sat under and in it’s heavy branches. Steve and his mother sat surrounded by people in the middle of the room. Their eyes sparkled, and their skin glowed. Everyone in the room looked like something out of a water color Christmas card. Billy’s mouth fell open, as he watched the scene. “It’s so wonderful to have everyone here for Christmas.” Nana said as she tucked her hands into her apron. “Come help me bring out the coco Billy, then I’ll have them all introduce themselves to you properly.” Billy nodded, following Nana into the kitchen. Where a little over a dozen people were working.

They were short people, and Billy felt bad for staring at them until he saw their ears. Pointed ears, that stuck out under their hair and hats. Elfs? One of them smiled, and handed Billy a tray before returning to her large pot. No, people wearing costumes, right! Nana began loading cup after cup onto the tray, smiling as she dropped different colored marshmallows into each of the cups.

“And a blue one for Billy, you’re favorite color.” Billy wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, Steve didn’t need to tell his family everything about Billy! “Come on now dear.” She lead him back into the living room and guilded him to an ornate coffee table and helped him set the tray down. “Okay, now the fun begins!” And then she starter calling out names. The youngest to the oldest. It started with a small girl, Joy, no older than two, who pushed herself up onto shaky legs and waddled over to her grandma. Billy handed her a small sippy cup filled with warm milk and a sinlge pink marshmellow. Five more girls followed little Joy, Faith, Hope, Ella, Fae, Nicole, before Billy was handed his cup, and then Steve, who got a cup shaped like a Santa. His family giggled and Steve blushed, sipping his coco happily nonetheless. Next the last three girls were called, Mary, May and Dove, then their mothers, Tinsel, Noel, Eve, Christmas and Carol. Finally Nana took her cup, blowing softly at the steam. Six cups remained on the tray, Billy glanced down at them wondering for the first time were the husbands and fathers of these girls were. “They’re in the den downstairs dear, watching the game of all things!” Nana laughed. “Papa is in his work shop right now, I was actually wondering if you and Stevie would take him his coco and remind him that dinner is almost ready. He’s so busy at the moment, but his family still needs him.” Nana lifted the only lidded cup and set it in Billy’s free hand.

Steve disentangled himself from his manu aunts and cousins and made his way over to Billy. “Let me guess, we’re on workshop duty?” Nana laughed softly.

“Well someone needs to stay here and make sure the ham doesn’t burn!” Steve pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before taking the cup from Billy and motioning for him to follow.

“My Granddad’s workshop is in the back yard. He builds toy prototypes for a company based in Anchorage.”

“He makes toys?” Billy asked, carefully avoiding a second smaller tree in the hall that lead to the backdoor. A pile of boots lay next to the door, coats of every color and size lay on the bench next to the huge pile, Steve picked through them before eventually finding his and Billy’s.

“Yeah. Toys of every kind! Some stay here in the US, others go overseas to like Japan and stuff.” Billy shrugged his coat on, taking the cup back from Steve who shrugged his coat on while Billy waited by the back door. “You’d be surprised how in demand toys are.” Steve lead him out of the backdoor and down a stone path, to a second even larger cabin. Smoke billowed from the many chimneys and music could be heard from just behind the doors and windows. Steve didn’t even bother knocking, just pushed his way inside. Billy followed at a slower pace, every bit of Steve family home was amazing. This workshop was filled with toys, old toys, new toys, pictures of toys that dated to the victorian era if Billy was correct.

His mind whirled. Steve’s family was in the toy making business, had been for apprently hundreds of years, they employed short people with ears so pointy they could probably pop balloons, they were obsessed with Christmas, had a freaking deer in their yard. This had to be a joke, Billy turned to smile at Steve who seemed utterly clueless that Billy’s mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. There was no way, Steve’s familt wasn’t, they couldn’t be.

“Oh! There he is!” Steve said pointing up the winding stairs to a figure. A figure all in red, with heavy boots on and a fuzzy hat.

Billy watched, mouth open as the man turned around to face them. His cheeks red, and his smile huge. His belly shook as he laughed, a latge booming ‘Stevie!’ echoed around them followed by what could only be described as a ‘hohoho’. Billy felt Steve take the cup of coco from him, which was good because Billy was sure he was about to faint as he watched his boyfriend cross in front of the many workers to embrace Santa Claus.

[seiphian]

[ Because I had to ] Drabble: ‘Our first child will be named after me.’

“Frey’s pregnant.”

That was not what Leon expected to hear. He looked up from his book, staring at his husband who was crawling into their king sized bed. Okay, it was bound to happen; Frey getting pregnant that was. She and Lest had been talking about babies recently as the two siblings both were settled down with their own husbands.

But? Why did Lest sound sad about the fact his sister was pregnant? Wouldn’t he be happy that his sister would be pregnant?

“Are you not happy?” Leon asked as he closed his book. He set the book on the side of his bedside table. His brows furrowed in worry for Lest, this wasn’t usual. Usually, Lest would burst in rave about whatever news he just heard. It happened when she announced her engagement to Will. It happened when Frey and Will got married and Lest talked about how happy and excited he was for his sister. How he was excited for something new, something different.

What was different that Lest wasn’t happy about.

Lest curled up towards his husband. The frown had yet to leave his face as he shook his head side to side. “I’m happy. I always wanted a niece or nephew. But…”

“But?”

Lest just let out a sigh as he sat up in their bed. He crossed his legs in front of him, looking into Leon’s purples eyes. Oh, how he loved that handsome man. The worry on Leon’s face hadn’t left yet, and as the silence consumed them, he looked more and more worried.

“Lest.” Leon put his hand in his husbands, giving it a tiny squeeze. Lest could feel his love’s wedding ring and the jewels around the band. They stared

Lest took a big breath in, before blurting out: “I want a baby one day, Leon.”

What. That was what he was sad about?

A baby?

That’s what he spent the past few minutes pouting about?

Leon couldn’t help but burst into laughter because the problem that’s been plaguing his husbands mind. Of course he was jealous, of course. He should have noticed when Lest started pouting. “Lest,” he wheezed out. He just couldn’t believe it. Out of everything, it was his husband’s want for a baby; his want for a family.

It made sense though. Two people lost in a place they don’t know who found a future within each other. Of course he would want to grow a family. For Ventuswill’s will, Leon had told Lest time and time again how much he loved children. Leon wanted to be a father one day. He dreamed of it hundreds of years ago. And Lest, well, he was simple. Children were fun. They thought Lest was cool for how good he was at sword fighting and Lest adored playing with kids.

Of course he would want a child one day. Someone to continue their legacy. Someone to adore, to teach, and most importantly, raise to be a wonderful human with memories and a life that won’t be put on hold or lose.

“Just letting you know little prince,” Leon said once his laughter died down. He pressed a kiss to his husband’s temple. “Our first child will be named after me.”

Lest could only respond back with a snort. He cupped Leon’s face in his hands, looking deep within in his blue orbs. “And what? We have Leon Bastet IX?” Leon could only nod back, keeping his devilish grin onto his face.

“You’re silly.” He whispered, pressing his lips to Leon’s. Leon stroked the back of Lest’s head, the act in itself making Lest pull away. The young prince put a finger on his lover’s chest, only covered the bathroom. “You’re a silly, silly, silly fox.” He continued as he pushed his husband into the soft cushions of their bed.

Silly, silly, silly fox.

BONUS

Whoever thought fatherhood would make Lest responsible? Cause it did.

Frey was still on maternity leave because apparently, when you give birth to a baby instead of using magic to create one, you deserve three or so months of rest and bonding time. Apparently. So, all the work was on Lest’s plate while his sister got to spend quality time with her baby daughter.

He didn’t even get paternity leave when Noel was born. Speaking of the little bugger….

Noel had been created on Christmas Day through some magic spell Lest had found in the castle’s library. Sure, he did the spell because Frey made him upset and told him he and Leon would never be that great of parents because of how immature Lest was but so far, they had done  pretty solid job of parenting. The six months Lest spent with him had been tough, but wonderful. Sure there were long nights, fussy moments, and the kid HATED wearing shirts already, but Lest and Leon loved him. Not every night was spent in passionate love making like it was when Leon and Lest were child-less. Not every morning they woke up refreshed. Yet, the two wouldn’t change their current life with their son for the world.

The prince actually showed up for meetings on time, usually with his infant son in one arm now since the six month old was going through a phase where he wanted Lest and only Lest. Sometimes he wanted Leon, but very rarely did he go to anyone else without shedding tears.

Today wasn’t a meeting day. No one was visiting Selphia this week and the festivals for July had already been prepared. This was just a simple work day, complete with mountains of letters and paper work. Paper work that looked like it could probably be

The blond bounced the puppy-baby in one arm while going through mail in another. Noel hadn’t been fussy that day yet, but it was only a matter of time before his second nap of the day. So if Lest could entertain him while doing work, that would be perfect. The six month old held onto the side of his dad’s robes as he cooed at the funny looking papers. Lest had recently found out that Noel’s favorite thing to do was to take papers and throw it around as he was trying to figure out his own motor skills. Which usually meant that Lest had to pick up the papers, which in turn resulted in Noel trying to grab them out of his hands. And that was less than fun.

Lest bounced Noel again, moving him to his other hip so he could work better. It was difficult trying to take care of a baby and a kingdom at the same time. Especially when Noel kept spitting his pacifier out of his mouth and laughing. Thankfully, Lest caught it in his free hand right before it even fell down onto the tile.“Stop spitting this out!” Lest teased his baby boy before pressing a soft kiss to his chubby, baby face. He quickly put the pacifier back into the baby’s mouth, holding it still so his son could latched. He looked over the messy mountain of papers and letters before noticing one letter in particular. Picking up one letter, pink in color as it differed from the usual white or tan letters he received. Lest read the front as it was addressed directly to “Prince Lest, Sir Leon, and the young prince Noel of Selphia”. It was nice seeing his son’s name on a letter addressed to them. It made Lest feel proud whenever someone directly mentioned Noel, it made him so proud of his little family. who cared about Camellia

But, wait a second….

Leon…. Noel… Leon, Noel….

It finally hit Lest. Everything in the past six months hit him like a wall of bricks. He stared down at the writing, realizing his mistake. Realizing what Leon had done… “Our first child will be named after me.” Oh fu-

“Pffffff.” Lest shook his head, hearing the sound of something. He looked over to his hip to see his son blowing raspberries at his spit out pacifier that laid on the ground. “Pffff.” Noel made the sound again before looking up with a gummy smile at his dad. “Pffff.” He did it for the third time.

Noel’s big blue eyes looked up at Lest’s purple orbs. Every day that passed, he was looking more and more like Leon. His tail and ears were directly from Leon (of course they were, Lest didn’t have that). He had the same eyes of his beloved, the same hair. The only thing he got from Lest was probably his fluffy hair and cheeky personality.

Gods, how he loved his little son so much. Noel smiled up at his dad and blew raspberries for the fourth time. “Are you being silly? You know, papa just figured out something daddy did that was very silly too, Noel. Do you wanna go bug daddy?” Lest asked to his son as he held him up high above his head. As if he was responding, Noel let out a small squeal. “Alright, let’s go bug daddy, Noel~ ♪”

Lest was going to kill Leon.

[littlestarprincess]

Oh yeah, speaking of Jin (press J to skip btw) I absolutely have a baby daddy au for him because I’m trash for the Big Mistakes made specifically by people who no one realizes are human disasters but who are actually human disasters and Jin qualifies: (please note *warning* for teenage pregnancy?)

In this AU my insert was still a child assassin used in politics, but her mom made a deal with Terumi/Hazama/Whom-the-fuck-ever to keep me from being imprisoned when she was caught, and so I became a normal military assassin instead. There is still a slight love triangle going on with regards to Hazama, but it’s not as intense as my primary SI because fucking with me is less interesting and therefore Hazama has less reason to interact. Anyway, I attended the military academy with Jin & Noel & Tsubaki & Makoto, and for a while I got along pretty well with Makoto (took some of the heat off of her because I was a Blatant Criminal Who Should Be In Jail and also because I had 0 social skills at that time in my life) but that’s not the point. The point is that I was a disaster child that Jin knew vaguely through Terumi (though I don’t think he knew how he knew me) and so felt weirdly responsible for. There was some tension between me and Tsubaki, but everything seemed pretty stable . . . 

Until something happened between me and Jin and I suddenly disappeared from the academy, breaking his heart in the process (not that he’d admit to having a heart) and Tsubaki put two and two together and hunted me down and YUP guess who was having a tiny assassin child of her own!

Tsubaki learned my full story and helped me to escape from the NOL and covered up my second disappearance because we both wanted the unborn kid (who would eventually be a son named Coral) to have a relatively normal life, and so for a while things were peaceful. . . . Except the city I had run away from happened to be Kagutsuchi, so when Calamity Trigger happens, I’m unexpectedly reunited with Jin, who doesn’t actually know he’s a dad, whoops.

Probably I have strong ties with Litchi because she acts as Coral’s doctor and keeps track of his development and stuff, and subsequently Bang acts as a big brother type and Carl acts like a big brother to teeny-tiny-Coral, who is probably only like. Two? If that, actually.

Jin can’t stand me because I’m a “distraction”, which is basically what our entire relationship up until that point was (we were both Suffering, and so we’d seek each other out to numb the pain, but then that had consequences, basically), but after the time loop ends, Jin and I both have reached a place where we want to move on from that part of ourselves that was running away, and end up teaming up, at which point Jin isn’t like . . . a Great dad, but he’s good with babies specifically because babies are kind of like. . . you don’t really need to know what the fuck is going on re: emotions until like, a year or two later, right? RIGHT?? But he also might read military texts out loud to Clover as bed time stories, which Clover finds BORING, even if he’s still too young to talk (which . . . might be. Is very likely. Carl still considers himself Clover’s big brother though.)

[djseaward]

october, lately + bake off update

hi guys. it's been a strange start to the school year this time around. i've had a few work switcheroos and cancelled lessons throwing me for a loop -- not exactly the kind of thing you want to have happen a month or so before you go on a big trip.

ohhh, did i mention i was going on a trip next month? more perceptive readers will know i tend to post my travel plans on this page as soon as i’ve scheduled them, but i haven't yet got a chance to mention that next month, one of my biggest travel dreams is going to come true. one that i have hinted about on social media for months, actually! not only that, but i'm going to be able to see my family (mom + bro) because we're headed back to....

iceland!

i have been wanting to go to the iceland airwaves music festival even before the very first trip to iceland i took in 2011. for years, i have been watching the streams and following along with the icelandic music scene, thanks to my favorite seattle radio station and international pioneer of music, kexp. i don't know why, but i quickly developed a deep love for all things icelandic music related. maybe it's because the music scene there reminds me of the scene in my hometown of anacortes, wa.

whatever the reason, boy am i lucky enough to have my family join alex and i there! i feel like the luckiest gal in the world this year.

meanwhile, it's been a busy but lovely month as octobers usually are. we've had quite the "babí léto" this year (indian summer) and the past entire week has been gorgeous and warm. not complaining! sandals have even made a reappearance as you can see, above.

i've been thinking a little bit about ways we all, as different people, choose to spend our free time. on most days of the week (except for saturdays, which i tend to fancy as a glorious "do nothing" sort of day a lot of the time), i have an extremely structured regimen of how i prefer to use my time. if i have free time, the priorities for me are laying out the mat and doing some yoga (if it's morning), or cracking open the books and studying language (if it's any other time of day). other activities (herbal studies modules, reading, etc) take a back seat. because i'm doing the bake off bake along right now through the rest of the month, sunday baking is taking up those afternoons... it's all really quite regimented. 

on one hand, i prefer to pencil things in this way because i have so much i want to do and want to make sure i accomplish it all, but on the other, isn't it strange to plan so many things to do for yourself that you no longer even feel like doing them, even if they were supposed to be fun? 

the past couple sundays (don't know why it was on a sunday, pure coincidence) i hadn't been feeling that well, but the first of those days, i plunged ahead with my regimen, not realizing what poor shape my body was in and that i needed to take a time out for a bit of extra self care. (the second sunday, i was able to realize this in advance and take better steps) in the end, balance is always the key, isn't it.

do you prefer to have a more regimented daily routine or just do things spontaneously as they come?

speaking of sunday bakes, i have the past few weeks of bake off bake along to share! is anyone else immensely enjoying this season? i love the themed weeks so far and sandy and noel just really make it, for me, channel four switch be damned. rahul cracks me up on the regular -- the flavors he chooses are mesmerizing! but kim joy's my favorite. i am absolutely intrigued by the way her mind works, not to mention she is a fantastic artist and i dig her aesthetic. 

  for week #4, dessert week ("but isn't every week dessert week?" -- alex), i decided to go with the signature challenge of a meringue roulade... never having made meringue before. i have once attempted to whisk egg whites into stiff peaks (necessary for the creation of meringue) with utter failure. i don't own a stand mixer, so it all had to be by hand, but after some research and self-pep talks, i was absolutely successful and hand-whipping beautiful stiff peaks! the meringue was so pretty, i didn't want to roll it all up! 

i decided to make mary berry's classic strawberry meringue roulade recipe with only one tiny hiccup: i overwhipped my whipped cream. (doh!) i still used it, but it would have been tons better at the normal consistency. at least the meringue itself was up to snuff! the strawberries which i froze at peak freshness late last spring where absolutely delicious.

for week #5, spice week (perfect for this time of year, really), i chose the signature challenge (a ginger cake) and created a fantastic pumpkin ginger cake with speculoos crumbles! the icing wasn't so thick and lovely (surely i'd get marked down for a thin icing) because i outright refused to use another two sticks of butter in the icing when the cake already had plenty. but the cake was the real star here -- absolutely moist and delicious. it tasted very similar to my favorite pumpkin cookie recipe or the starbucks pumpkin scone. the photos were utterly horrible so i’ll spare you, but i highly recommend that recipe if you want to make the perfect, moist autumn-inspired dessert.

on week #6, last weekend, i just took a pass. i'm going to come out and admit it! it was pastry week, i had no idea -- choosing between an extremely complicated dessert, samosa (did not want to deep fry anything), or a hand-shaped pie -- and i wasn't feeling well. the rest instead of an afternoon in the kitchen was one hundred percent worth it, but i'll be back to try a vegan week (#7) challenge tomorrow.

going to try a thing and write more regular (but perhaps shorter) posts + i have one coming up combining a berlin + czech interest!  hope you all have a great weekend. 

above photo of our “first day of october” monday morning coffee date on a boat. (life in czechland is not so bad!)