#There's a reason I spent Christmas and my birthday alone

[blue-banditt]

Ok I don't think it's unreasonable to refuse to visit my parents if they're not going to hang out with me,, right?? RIGHT?? Like I shouldn't be expected to drive 2 hours there and back to sit around their house and beg like a damn puppy for crumbs of their attention like I did when I was a kid, especially when I have a whole ass apartment and cat and schoolwork to take care of at home.

"am I going to see you this weekend?"

"I wasn't planning on it. I can fit it in if I'm not just going to be sitting around your house all day though"

"I'm not going to entertain you!! 😝"

Ok well, I'm a guest now since you turned my old bedroom into your hoarding closet I mean sewing den mb,,. idk sounds like bad host manners to me. 🤷

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

A humble request

I'm reaching out to the community for what may seem like a selfish reason, but something in my heart says that I gotta try. Asking for help is better than wallowing in sorrow.

My birthday is coming up next month, July 15. With the way things are going, this will probably be my first birthday spent alone, or at least, without mom (Unless things change radically, she won't be home by then or likely any time within the next few months) Now you gotta understand, I was born a year after my mom lost a child due to a deformity that is so severe and so rare, the baby never survives or makes it to birth. She wanted me badly, and while I struggle with that some days....I know I mean a lot to her.

Mom cared so much that she ALWAYS made Christmas and birthday special. She would fulfill my lists if she had the money (as I got older I grew guilty, and would often ask for less as years went on) and she always made sure I got something I wanted. Many times she would surprise me with gifts I didn't even know I wanted. Last Christmas, it was a beautiful coyote pelt. Do ya'll remember the btas scarecrow cake, or the handmade cupcakes with the fear symbol? She made those happen. She even paid to fly my brother (my hero) from Seattle to Kansas City for an event while I was taking classes at KCAI

I...don't think, unless dad gets me something, which he hinted he would but....I wont have that "special" surprise gift from mom. I could live without my amazon wish list, that's whatever. it's the way she always made that day matter that I'm going to miss. I'm crying typing this...

So, that's why I'd like to ask something of the rogues fandom

Could the artists, writers, crafters, creatives....come together and make sure that day isn't miserable? I'm not lying when I say I can count on my finger the days I've gone without crying or breaking down in someway since March. To put it bluntly and selfishly, I'm asking for some art, maybe a doodle of jon (or dm me for other characters I like!) or a little drabble about a headcanon I like. I wanna wake up on the 15th with my inbox full of love. I'm not asking for you to slave over photoshop for hours, but just something simple to make the day less depressing. When I told ya'll about my bad day and asked for positive messages, I woke up the next day with 20+ of them. That meant so much.

And all I want is to spend my birthday happy, and not in tears.

I'm sorry to sound so greedy....but y'all have shown me many times over, that internet strangers can show the most amazing amount love and care. And honestly, gift art would matter way more than physical things. Every single time you guys make me something, I save it to a gift art folder on my computer. I save every single thing.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA in this friendship? give me a minute here, it's more complicated than it sounds

I'm 19 years old, female. So there's this friend, we'll call her B (also 19F). We've been friends for years, since elementary. We've been good friends for that time, I thought.

But especially during high school, it was hard to spend time with her. She was always convinced the friend group hated her even though all I'd ever hear was that they liked her and were confused/frustrated/hurt as to why she thought that. She's always had a lot of mental illness going on (depression, anxiety, ADHD, etc) so I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She spent most of her time in another part of the school refusing to spend time with me or the friend group saying she wanted "alone time" even though she was surrounded by other friends.

I knew she was feeling unwanted within the friend group, so I tried to spend time with her when she would let me. But it kind of alienated me from the rest of the friend group so I spent a good portion of my lunches alone. Plus, even though she would say its ok for me to be there, sometimes it felt like she hated me and my presence. But then she would turn around and tell me I was the only one she could be truly honest with, etc, etc.

The reason I tried not to pay too much heed to the idea that she might really hate being my friend is because I also struggle with anxiety pretty badly. I've been working really really hard to just listen to what people tell me, because I can't trust what I'm telling me.

But this feeling continued after high school, and it felt like there was something I didn't know, like she secretly hated me and only put up with me.

Almost every time I would invite her to do something, she would try to invite someone else too. That's fine, but when it happens almost every time... it made me feel like I was unwanted.

I got really clingy. I'll admit that. I texted her often (most days a week) and would get anxious when she didn't respond within a couple of hours, leading to me double, triple texting most of the time. She told me not to text her during work, but how am I supposed to know for sure? She told me her hours once, but I have no record of it and I don't expect her to memorize my schedule so I feel like that's unfair. Plus, if I didn't press for an answer, I often wouldn't get one at all or wouldn't get one for days. Like one time I tried to schedule a time to hang out a few weeks in advance. She told me she would get back to me, but then the day before, still nothing. I texted over and over again, trying to get an answer, until she got mad at me for texting so much and told me she didn't think hanging out would work out. But the point is I got clingy, in a way that I understand made her anxious.

My anxiety got the better of me and I decided to stop contacting her. I held to it for a couple of months, aside from wishing her happy christmas/new years. But my birthday came and went for the second year in a row without a word, and I decided I needed to talk to her about it.

I did, and although she refused to do it in person like I wanted, I thought it was a pretty good conversation. She told me about a couple things I was doing to make her uncomfortable. I promised to work on those and being less clingy. I told her I need her to be honest about the things that bother her, and she said she needed time to work on that skill. She said she was thinking a month, maybe less, so i agreed not to contact her first during that time and she promised to contact me soon.

I didn't hear from her for three months. I finally broke down and texted her, asking to talk it out and telling her this arrangement wasn't working for me. She didn't respond for almost a week. I needed peace of mind, so I said I was done with waiting and I would be open to rekindling the friendship later, but I wasn't going to hold my foot in the door for her any longer. No response again.

I remembered I owed her money and asked her when would be a good time to drop it off (it was not like five bucks, it was a fair amount of money so I didn't want to like leave it on a doorstep or something). No response again for a day. I told her if I didn't hear from her in a couple of days I was going to keep the money.

She finally responded a day later, saying she didn't have the energy for a "high maintenance" friendship and to leave the money in her mailbox.

I don't know who was at fault here. I mean, I was clingy and I ended the friendship, but she didn't give me a chance to change and didn't stick to her word. But I don't know if contacting her again after those three months was clingy? I really don't know, and the end of this friendship has been tormenting me. I just want to know who was at fault and then I can deal with it, but I honestly don't know.

Also, WIBTA for contacting B again and trying to rekindle the friendship?

Please do not ask multiple questions in a single submission. It just confuses things and makes it hard for people to vote in the poll.

[bqstqnbruin]

Matt Rempe Teacher AU

I have actually written four little teacher au blurbs in less than 24 hours out of sheer boredom but I don't like one of them so here's the third one you get have fun

Teacher AU Series

Warnings: None

WC: 1848

“What are you doing?”

Leighton jumps when she hears his voice, not noticing the door even being opened as she scrambled to turn off her music so she could have a conversation with him. “I’m putting together first day of school gifts for my homeroom.”

Matt scoffs, inviting himself over to her lab tables, shuffling through the things she had scattered on the black table tops. “Why?”

“It’s their last first day of school, I wanted to do something nice for them.” 

“Something nice is a plastic lei, beads, and a wooden letter?”

“A: it’s something small for the first day, it doesn’t have to be that elaborate. B: I spent time painting these their class color and it’s their initials, not just a random letter. And, C: have you seen them on spirit day? They eat this kind of shit up,” Leighton scolds him, trying to push past him to get the bags together. She knew her homeroom students. She knew this was the kind of stuff they loved to get, and she wanted to make their last first day just a little bit more special if she could. Not to mention, it was all in a reasonable budget for having to make fifteen gift bags.

Matt scoffs again, making Leighton’s blood boil. “They’re seniors in high school, not first graders.”

“And what do you do for your homeroom?”

“Nothing. I don’t have to buy their affection the way you apparently do.”

“It’s not buying their affection if they were giving it to me for free to begin with. Now get out and go back to your own classroom, you have your own prep to do before students show up on Monday,” she says, trying as hard as she could to physically shove him out of her classroom, unable to see the smile on his face. 

“Did it already.”

Leighton steps back, throwing Matt off balance. “How?”

Matt shrugs, a smirk on his face. “It’s not that hard. I don’t need things on my walls and Mary already ordered all the supplies we need for this year when we were clearing out the budget last year.” 

“I don’t understand how you don’t decorate your classroom at the beginning of the year.” 

Matt gestures to the posters behind her desk, knowing that they were things for her homeroom from the previous years that she put back up every year. “I hang up students' work new each year. Let them decorate my classroom, not me.” 

“Get out,” Leighton says again, Matt laughing on his way to the door. 

That Monday, Leighton’s seniors loved their gifts, their classmates from Matt’s homeroom coming flying into her classroom to show off their brand new Stanley’s with their names embossed on them. Personal, flashy, and expensive. Not to mention, one of Matt’s girls, Vikki, placing one with the name ‘Ms. Cunningham’ on her desk, just for her. 

As soon as her students left, she took the cup with her down to Matt’s classroom. “What is this?” she asks, bursting into his classroom, thankful that he was alone in his room instead of with a student to see this. 

“It’s called a water bottle. Kind of. I don’t know if it counts as a bottle or a cup, but either way, you drink water from it.”

Leighton groans, turning on her heels before he can say anything else. She put the cup in one of the cabinets in her desk, hoping she could forget about its existence since she couldn’t forget about the person who gave it to her.

She avoided Matt as much as possible, knowing that anything he did would get under her skin and make her irrationally angry, a pit in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Christmas was coming up, Leighton already planning her Christmas gifts for her homeroom. They had gotten together and bought her a Ranger’s jersey with the name her favorite player from her childhood on the back for her birthday (apparently getting a bunch of anonymous students in on the gift to get around the ‘teachers can’t accept gifts of more than $25 from their students’ rule in the handbook), so she had to do something for Christmas.

She found someone on Etsy who made personalized necklaces for not much money, letting her put their names, their school name, and their graduation on charms for them. She stayed a little later before their last day of the calendar year to wrap their gifts for them, enjoying the peace she had in her room with the lights slightly dim, the sun already set, and Christmas music playing over her speakers.

“Now what are you doing?” Matt asks, his coat and hat already on, his keys in hand. Good, he had to be leaving soon. 

“Wrapping my homeroom’s Christmas gifts. And you look like you were leaving, so you should do that.” 

“Let me help,” he says, putting his bag down and taking off his hat. “It’s already after five, the faster this gets done, the faster you can go home and plan my demise or something.”

Leighton tries to hide the smile she wanted to mirror back to him. “That would imply that I think about you outside of work.” 

Matt shrugs, taking the necklace for Leah and wrapping it with more care than she had been. “I think about you outside work.”

Leighton rips the wrapping paper, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Yeah, wondering why you do this type of stuff.” 

Leighton swallows. “A couple of my girls' parents don’t have a ton of money. They can’t really afford to get them all the nice gifts that some of the other girls get. At least this way, I know they get something, and I know that it’s something that’s just as nice as the other girls get. I was that kid who would watch their friends opening these amazing presents, knowing that I would never get anything that nice until I could afford it myself.”

“So you buy yourself nice things now?”

Leighton laughs. “No. I spend pretty much all my extra money on stuff for the girls. Especially since it’s their senior year, it’s my last chance with this group to show them that there are people out there who are willing to do nice things for them.”

“What do the parents think?” 

“Most of them don’t care. But the ones that don’t have the money told me they like that there’s someone who can surprise their girls. They do what they can, but they can’t do everything, you know?”

Matt nods, giving her a soft smile. 

The next morning, her homeroom girls, again, loved their Christmas gifts, only to be interrupted, again, by Matt’s girls rushing in. Soph showed Leighton that Mr. Rempe had picked up every girl their Starbucks or Dunkin orders that morning, along with a Christmas ornament that had their name, the school name, and their graduation year on it, shockingly similar to the necklaces from her. Katherine hands her the same; her coffee from Dunkin and an ornament with Ms. Cunningham and the year she started teaching there on it.

Her students leave, and again, she storms down to Matt’s classroom, the Dunkin and ornament in hand.

“What is the matter with you?”

Matt turns to the student sitting at one of the tables, making up a test. “Jessie, I’ll be right back,” he says, grabbing Leighton’s wrist and dragging her into the prep room connected to his classroom, sending a shiver down her spine that she decided to ignore. “That’s an interesting way to say thank you to someone who got you a Christmas gift after telling them you didn’t have anyone who bought you nice things.”

“You keep one-upping my gifts to my girls,” she points out. “You’re doing the exact thing I watched when I was a kid with my friends getting better stuff.” 

Matt holds his hand up as if he were surrendering. “I like to get my students things I know they’ll like, just like you do.” 

“You are an insufferable walnut,” she lets out, not sure what else she could really say knowing there was a student within earshot of them. “Do not come into my classroom unless you’re told to, please. I am begging you.”

She leaves again before he could say anything, throwing the Dunkin in his trash can so he could see she didn’t take it with her. She sits down in her chair and lets out a long sigh, opening the cabinet to throw the ornament in with the cup from the beginning of the year. 

The rest of the year passed without much fanfare, Matt doing what he promised and leaving her alone. The last day of school and, therefore, graduation, was coming up quickly for the girls she had come to know so well over the last four years. She bought them custom wall art for their dorms next year that had their college colors on it. It was easily the most expensive and most difficult thing to get them, but it was the last thing she would get for them, it had to be special. 

“Are you ok?”

Leighton nearly jumped out of her seat at her desk, dropping the pen she had been using to write a letter to Katie, one of the last letters for her girls she would write. “You’re like the mold on my ceiling that keeps growing back.”

Matt looks up above her, a horrified look on his face. “You have mold?”

“Why are you here?”

“I was heading out and I saw you were crying.”

Leighton holds her hand up to her face, the tears on her cheeks long unnoticed. It was easy to get emotional writing about her girls; she watched them grow from scared freshmen into the women they were today, ready to set out into the world and hopefully change it for the better. “I’m gonna miss this group.” 

Matt nods, walking over to her desk, kneeling down in front of her and placing his hand on her knee. “They’re gonna miss you, too.”

Leighton laughs. “Do you remember your homeroom teacher from high school?”

“No, but I remember the ones who cared about me and my classmates.” The two of them sit there for a moment, Matt getting up off the ground. “Why did you never answer my questions?”

Leighton looks at him, clearly confused. “I have answered every question you asked me. All the annoying ones, too.”

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “No, the ones I asked you with the gifts.” She gets the gifts out of her desk, where they had been sitting all year. Matt takes the Stanley, opening the cup to reveal a note stuffed inside. He unravels what she thought was ribbon tied to the ornament that was another note. “I’ve been asking you to dinner all year,and you never said anything.”

“I ignored these gifts all year,” she says, bluntly. “I didn’t know you wanted to get dinner.”

“I would like more than just dinner, but I’ll settle for anything.”

[humblequestvinyl]

penthouse

PENTHOUSE, EDDIE DIAZ X FEM!READER

APART OF THE 'ROLLING UP THE WELCOME MAT' SERIES

SUMMARY: y/n’s packing up the penthouse with eddie, reminiscing on the times they had together, both good and bad.

inspired by penthouse by kelsea ballerini

previous chapter | next chapter

lowercase intentional! wc: 1.1k 

warning: swearing, vvv much angst! divorce meeting/hearing, anger & a courthouse

a/n: i swear on 911 on abc i did not forget abt this series, i was just busy doing smth for taylor swifts eras tour. anyway enjoy <33

“BUCK I HAVE TO GO PACK UP THE HOUSE.”

y/n told buck softly, before quickly leaving his house, and getting into her jeep.

the entire ride was silent. no music, no singing, and all of LA’s traffic was quiet as all could be. the girl was left alone with her thoughts, thinking about how badly it would hurt to roll up the welcome mat they had picked out right after they had moved in.

december 16th. exactly two weeks after their wedding date, and four days after they had gotten back from their honeymoon. a penthouse with a backyard for chris, and maybe a few more kids down the road, outlooking the mountains.

a penthouse that was filled with so many birthdays, holidays, and endless fights between the two. a penthouse the diaz’s thought they could call their forever home.

guess that’s kind’ve hard to do when you’re playing house in a home that didn’t feel like one.

it took the girl exactly 12 minutes to get to her old home, seeing eddie’s car already sitting in the driveway, and she dreaded going in. having to be in the same room as him, having to try to hold a conversation with him for the first time in two months.

finally taking a deep breath in, she walked inside, seeing eddie already packing up the kitchen, leaving half of it for y/n to take.

“take it all.”y/n spoke up, causing the man’s head to snap towards her, with almost a glare of some sort, “i’ve got enough plates back in nashville.”

“i’m only here to take my clothing and whatever else is mine.”she told him, before walking towards their old bedroom, leaving him standing there silent, something that wasn’t new between the two.

grabbing a box that was leaning up against the wall, she walked into the closet, seeing all of her clothing scattered on the floor, just the way she had left it. the first thing that had caught her eye was the black jumper she had worn in 2019, with flashes of the night before running through her mind.

all of her old tour costumes, red carpet dresses she wore with eddie right by her side, and all of the clothing she would wear while they stayed up late at night, watching the bachelorette. all packed away into a box labeled ‘storage’.

the last thing that stood was her wedding dress. 

the gorgeous silk wedding dress she spent hours upon hours searching for with her mom, going to endless bridal appointments looking for, and spending way more money than she was willing to admit. 

all being packed away into a box, forcing her to act like nothing had happened.

packing up her office, her half of the bathroom, her half of the storage room they had in the penthouse. all of it being gone, trying to get rid of the memories associated with them. pain went through her chest, with tears building up knowing she was the reason they were packing up the boxes, and moving out of the penthouse she adored, but knowing she couldn’t stay there anymore.

family dinners, dancing in the living room with eddie to their favorite taylor swift song, endless family game nights (with buck joining them everytime) and the christmas parties they always hosted. all gone because she was blowing up the life they had together.

picking up her guitar case off of the floor of the closet, she walked out to the jeep, stuffing everything she could into the car before walking back inside, seeing eddie standing in front of their dining room table.

“what do you want to do with the table?”eddie spoke up, not daring to look at the girl in front of him, “you were the one who bought it, figured you’d want it.”

“keep it, sell it, donate it.”she suggested, before shrugging, “i don’t care eddie. do what you want with it.”

“you want nothing to do with anything in this household besides whatever was distinctly yours?”he questioned as she placed her old key on the counter, shaking her head slightly.

“too many bad memories associated with it.”

—-- 

(ONE WEEK LATER.)

“HE WANTS WHAT?!”

y/n gripped her steering wheel hard as she was stuck in standstill LA traffic (one thing she wouldn’t miss), trying to get to her divorce hearing.

“he wants alimony along with child support, or half of the house with child support.”y/n’s lawyer told her, and she could feel her anger boil over, “he didn’t pay for the fucking house!”

“like yes he contributed, but he sure as hell didn’t pay for it!”she exclaimed, and she could already tell her lawyer, maeve was cringing, knowing she was right, “i will gladly pay the child support, but i want visitation with chris.”

“that kid means more to me than anything. i’m not abandoning him.”y/n stayed firm, and she heard maeve hum on the other line of the phone, “what about the other half of it?”

y/n stayed silent, debating her options.

having an alimony hearing every other week, with press standing outside the courthouse every single time, causing the divorce to be even messier, or have him take half of the house that she wanted nothing to do with.

“let him take half of the house.”she finally spoke up after a few moments, feeling her knuckles turn white, “it's better than being stuck at alimony hearings every other week.”

“are you sure?”maeve asked, and y/n stayed silent, “i know how much you love that house.”

“give him the house.”she stated one last time, before they figured out the final details as she pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse, praying everything would go over smoothly.

something that rarely happened with the two.

as y/n walked in, the h/c girl saw her soon to be ex husband standing with his lawyer, waiting for the girls arrival so they could get it over with. when they walked in, the two sat across from each other, his brown eyes met her e/c ones.

he could tell she knew. she knew about him wanting the half of the house that she adored, one that she loved so much. one they had picked out together, and now they were ripping it apart like it was just a piece of paper.

you can’t win when you’re playing house, in a broken penthouse.

[bluelocksource]

Otoya Eita’s trivia (source: twt & Egoist Bible).

"Stealth Breakthrough."

☆ Character's colour: Bright green.

☆ Weapons: Off-the-ball movement and agility.

☆ Nickname: ‘Ninja’.

☆ Birthday: 3rd December.

☆ Current age: 17 (3rd year of high school)

☆ Zodiac: Sagittarius.

☆ Birthplace: Aichi Prefecture.

☆ Family: Father. Mother. Older sister. Himself. Younger sister.

☆ Current height: 177 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right foot.

☆ Blood type: O.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 6.

☆ Team before joining BLUE LOCK: Kirigakure Academy Soccer Club.

☆ Motto: "Step up or step aside." **

☆ Favorite food: Churros. “It tastes great.”

☆ Disliked food: Pickles. “It doesn’t taste great."

☆ Favorite animal: Phoenix. “It is a flaming bird.”

☆ Favorite season: Summer. "Do I need a reason?"

☆ Favorite football player: Minamino Takumi.

☆ Favorite music: He likes listening to neo city pop genre.

☆ Favorite manga: Moteki. “It’s top-tier, no objection.”

☆ Favorite movie: Home Alone. “The unbeatable Christmas movie.”

☆ Favorite TV show: FNS Kayousai & Music Station Special Superlive. “I can get senselessly hyped up.”

☆ Favorite celebrity: Aso Kumiko. “I’m seriously dying!”

☆ Ideal type: Bright and honest woman. (don’t count on it, he’ll change it soon).

☆ Hobby: Tour around TDR (Tokyo Disney Resort). “Riding Tower of Terror at DisneySea is a must!”

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: “I only eat the chocolate part of the mushroom. I’ll give the rest to you.”

☆ What goes best with rice : A cute girl. “I like watching girls who eats rice deliciously.”

☆ What makes him happy: Something exciting.

☆ What makes him upset: Something boring/depressing.

☆ What he thinks his strength is: “I forget unpleasant stuff after sleeping.”

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: “I forget important stuff after sleeping.”

☆ Favorite/Best subject: English. “I only take the class seriously because the teacher is beautiful.”

☆ Dislike/weak subject: Other than English “Studying is boring.”

☆ What made him cry recently: He got hit in the eye from being slapped. “Cheating’s not good.”

☆ Usual sleeping time: 8 hours.

☆ What he usually ends up buying from convenience store: Breath care. “Who knows if I’ll be kissing my girlfriend later.”

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Between the toes. “Don’t want to get athlete’s foot.”

☆ Fixation: Scent. “I can tell our compatibility if you hug me.”

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 1. “It’s from a senior I was dating at the time. I was really into her.”

☆ At what age he experiences first love: At age 3. “With Dokin-chan.”

☆ The first time he got confessed to: Happened when he was 5 years old. “I kissed about 95% of the girls in nursery school, and 50% of them confessed.”

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "Charter a night pool party for as long as I can."

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: At age 12.

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: New spikes. “With some exciting design.”

☆ How he spent his holiday: "Either hanging out with friends or going on a date. I love the fluttering feelings prior to dating. The feeling wears off once I date the girl, though."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: Enjoy the moment.

☆ Favorite historical figure: "Steve Jobs. Creating the iPhone is truly remarkable."

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "Making chill music. I want to be someone who creates that kind of music."

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "I wouldn’t need anything. I’d just go with the flow. Deserted island, woohoo! "

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. " I want to know about future fashion and music. And I want to get along with future girls. Oh, I wonder if ninja jokes would work in the future?"

Last updated: 1/11/2024

** I translated his motto before (link to the post). It was difficult for me to translate it but a user who replied on that post worded it better than mine so I use them here :) thanks @thats-miss-spider-to-you !

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 7

happy birthday, mia

30 January 1996

Euphemia's POV

The Christmas break seemed to float by. Harry and I stayed at Hogwarts as always, the Weasleys and Hermione staying as well. My first two years at Hogwarts, I went back to the Dursleys' for Christmas, just to see Harry and make sure he was okay. Since Harry started though, we've had no reason to go back. Christmas with each other and our friends has always been far preferable. I'll never forget how excited Harry got his first Christmas morning at Hogwarts. 

I love the castle during the holidays. It's decorated to the nines and is quiet and serene for two weeks. I spend most of my time running around the empty halls with the twins, a snowball fight with the Twins and I on one team and Harry, Ron and Hermione on another, and two weeks of no prefect rounds. 

Since that night in the broom closet, Mattheo and I haven't spoken of what happened. I've never seen him be so gentle, especially not to me. The way he helped calm me down from panicking, and the way our hostile banter turned playful in the time we spent locked in the closet has plagued my mind in the two months since. I fully expected to arrive in class the next morning with the whole school knowing Euphemia Potter had a panic attack from being stuck in a broom closet with Mattheo Riddle (most girls' dream situation) but no one knew unless I told them. Mattheo hadn't told anyone what happened, or if he did he swore them to secrecy. I tried to thank him for it but I only received a grunt in return, reverting back to the same cold, angry and insufferably superior jerk I've always known him to be. Even so, I can't help but wonder what he was doing over break, why he was so nice to me that night, and why he hasn't tried to use my weakness against me. 

Harry has been despondent since Christmas when his new Firebolt was confiscated to be checked for tampering. I hadn't even woken up yet when Harry had come rushing in, yelling thank you over and over again. He'd thought I had bought him the new broom but I hadn't. Well, I'd been planning on it but my plan was to let Harry pick out the broom he wanted rather than choose it myself. But some mystery benefactor had beaten me to it and McGonagall promptly confiscated it, worried about it being cursed or hexed and Hermione has taken the brunt of Harry's anger. Secretly, I'm grateful someone else thought it was strange besides me but i’m sorry Hermione is being shut out for it.

Since term has resumed, and prefect rounds and Quidditch practices along with it, Harry and I have been adding weekly anti- dementor lessons to our schedules. Four lessons in and Harry and I can both produce the shield version of the Patronus Charm. The corporeal form, however, has been a bigger challenge. 

"Happy Birthday, Mia!" The door to my dorm is flung open as the Weasley Twins, Angelina, Alicia, Lee, and Harry all flood into my room. The best benefit of being a prefect? I have my own dorm room. Although, my friends have started to use it as their own personal common room so it's ultimately not that private anymore. I sit up, making a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh as my friends and brother surround my bed. I squint at the clock on my nightstand and balk. 

"I love you all so much but it's literally 8AM, I don't get to sleep in on my birthday? It's a Sunday!" I pretend to whine, falling back on my pillows. With Quidditch practice Mondays-Thursdays 4:30-6:30PM, prefect rounds Tuesdays and Thursdays 9-11PM, and extra lessons with Lupin on Wednesdays at 8PM I have barely any time to do my schoolwork, let alone anything else. 

"No, because it's not fair for you to shorten the time we get to celebrate you by sleeping," Angelina says, crossing her arms and sitting on the bed next to me. 

"You can't sing at breakfast," I say, sitting up with my eyes wide and looking at the Twins. Fred and George love parties, celebrations and taking the mickey out of people they love. When they found out I'd never celebrated a birthday before coming to Hogwarts, they made it their personal mission to make every birthday since absolutely insane. 

"We won't," Fred says, a mischievous gleam in his eyes behind his smile.  

"I couldn't believe you less," I laugh. 

"Oh we're singing! No opting out, Potter!" Lee says, wiggling his eyebrows like a madman. 

"C'mon, Mia don't be a spoil sport!" George says, leaning against one of the posts of my bed frame. 

"Oi! I am many things but a party pooper is not one," I laugh, "I need you all the leave if you expect me to get dressed though." 

"Boo," Fred laughs, heading towards the door with George and Lee. Harry holds back for a moment and leans over the edge of my bed to give me a hug. 

"Happy birthday, Mia," he says with a small smile. 

"Thanks, Haz," I return his smile, reaching up to ruffle his already unruly hair. He chuckles and shoves my hand away and turns to leave with the rest of the boys, leaving me with Angelina and Alicia. 

"Sooo, what do you think Freddie got you for your birthday?" Angelina asks, lay back on my bed. 

"The twins better not have gotten me anything. I don't want any presents," I say, pushing off the blankets and tossing them over Angie. 

"Not the twins! Fred," Alicia says, sitting on the back of the love seat in front of the fireplace. I furrow my eyebrows as I cross the room to my dresser and begin pulling clothes out for the day. 

"Why just Fred?" 

"C'mon, Mia. You are not dense," Angie says, rolling onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. 

"About what, Ang?" I turn, raising my eyebrows, playing dumb because I know exactly where they are going with this. 

"Freddie liiiikes you!" She responds in a sing-song voice, causing me to roll my eyes and throw a sweatshirt at her from across the room. 

"Please!" I groan. 

"Why are you upset? Fred's cute," Alicia says. Angelina and I raise our eyebrows at our friend, who is very openly lesbian. "That's not a personal opinion! It's just a fact. Fred and George could have any girl in this school they wanted and yet, dear Freddie has been single for more than a year. He likes you, Mia. It's plain as day." 

"I look like I could be his sister. Remember first year when half the school thought we were triplets?" I say, pulling a sweater over my head. The Weasley family all have bright and fiery red hair while my hair is a darker red, a weird mix of the dark brown of my father's hair and the bright red my mother had. Never stopped people from asking if we were related though. "I don't like Fred like that." 

"You're dumb for that, Phe. Sorry," Angie laughs. 

"You date him then if you think he's so great!" I laugh. 

"No thanks. I've got dibs on George though," she responds, winking at me. Alicia and I exchange a shocked look before we burst out into laughter. 

"You know, Ang, I think that will work out very well for you," I tease. Angelina bolts up to her knees, still on my bed. 

"What do you know?" 

"A secret!" I wink and duck as Ang throws a pillow at me.

"The three of you and your secrets, I swear!" 

"Okay so who do you like? There's gotta be somebody," Alicia pries, and I sigh. 

"There's no one. When would I find the time?" 

Angelina gasps, jumping up from the bed and rushing over to me, grabbing me by the shoulder. "Don't tell me it's Riddle!" 

"ANG!" I groan, pulling out of her grip, moving into the ensuite bathroom but leaving the door open. 

"Oh my god, imagine?" Alicia starts cackling on the couch, falling off the back and landing on the cushions on the other side, her feet dangling over the back of the love seat.

"It's like Romeo and Juliette! By that muggle writer you like so much!" 

"Romeo and Juliet both die in the end," I call from the bathroom. "I don't really think they are meant to role models." 

"Still, he's so hot. And experienced. From what I hear he's amazing in be-" 

"Ah! No! Please stop, it's already hard enough to do rounds with him without thinking about his bedroom habits!" I interrupt Angelina, waving my hands begging her to stop. "Let's go get breakfast and you can continue your tirade of embarrassment once I have coffee in my system, deal?" 

My day is spent being dragged around by my friends. They take me to Hogsmeade, singing happy birthday again when Rosemerta brings me a cupcake with a small candle stuck in the top and telling every shopkeeper it's my birthday. I think I spend most of the day blushing and trying to hide.  When we finally make it back to the castle, I head into my room to put away some stuff I bought in Hogsmeade. 

Just as I'm about to leave to rejoin my friends, something catches my eye on my mantle. It's a yellowing piece of parchment paper folded into a square  with my name on it written in handwriting I don't recognize. I reach for it and turn it over revealing a dark red wax seal. I study the crest pressed into the dark red wax, feeling like I recognize it but not being able to-- My knees fold below me and I sink to the floor at the realization. I did research on our family history my first year at Hogwarts and this crest was everywhere I looked. The Potter Family crest. 

My hands shake as I tear open the letter.

22 October 1981

My darling Mia,

Happy 18th birthday, my beautiful, wonderful daughter. If you're reading this letter, then I am very glad I decided to write this. While I hope your mother and I come out of this war relatively unscathed, I feel it would be irresponsible if I did not put some things in writing for a worst case scenario. So, I have enchanted this letter to appear to you on your birthday on the off chance I am not there to give you a present in person.

As I'm sure you know, my father inherited a fortune, which through his career he grew significantly, and a manor house. A house in which he and my mother raised me, and I spent my life in. My parents, never failing in their generosity, made our home a haven for others, and a place of warmth and joy, not only for our family by blood, but our family through choice as well.  It has a proper name I never could be bothered to remember but everyone just called it the Potter Manor anyway. If you are reading this it means I am gone and the house is now yours. You'll find directions to it in this letter as it was hidden by enchantments before we left to go into hiding. What you do with the house and the money, I leave entirely to you and your brother's choosing. I know first hand how quickly the world changes and I believe the age of manor houses and ballrooms, and lavish parties of my parents' life is not in keeping with the world you shall be a young woman.

I also want you to know how loved you are. We may not have expected you but we have never regretted your existence. You and your brother have been the shining star that has guided your mother and me through the dark years that have followed us since leaving Hogwarts. I know you will do incredible things in your life, my darling. Watching you grow these last few years has been the most wonderful experience of my life and being your father is the greatest privilege. Your mother and I love you and Harry more than anything in this world. 

I know if you are reading these words, then the worst has happened and I am very sorry I never got to watch you grow into the beautiful young woman I know you will be. Luckily, you have been surrounded by loving friends and family since your birth and I know you and your brother will be well taken care of by your godfathers. Remus and Sirius are my brothers, as well as Peter, and they are some of the only people your mother and I would entrust our children to. Do me a favor? Tell them I love them for me. 

Now, I hear your mother calling me for dinner and I must go have a wonderful meal cooked by the woman of my dreams, joined by the two most beautiful and wonderful children to ever exist. What a lucky man I am. 

With all my love, 

Dad

I can't help as tears fall down my face as I read my fathers words, words he hoped would never reach me, words he might have shown me himself, to which we would laugh at our good fortune and celebrate the 18 years we spent together as a family. I blink back tears and read through the letter again, soaking up the only piece of my father I have. 

As I reread his mention of godfathers, a tightness grows in my chest. Sirius, I know, is Harry's godfather but Remus? I sit there, my knees pulled to my chest, for a moment before the realization hits me. 

The letter in my hand, I run out of my room and into the halls, furiously walking to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, red clouding my vision as the truth of my life comes more clearly into focus. As I enter the darkened classroom, I see light spilling out from the office door at the back. I throw the door open to see Remus Lupin standing at a record player in the back, music playing softly from the speakers. 

"Mia! Are you alright?" He asks, his eyes scanning my face with concern. 

"Are you my godfather?" I blurt out, unable to control the anger coursing through my veins. Lupin pails and he nearly drops the record in his hands. 

"W-Where did you hear that?" He asks, setting the record down and walking around his desk to face me. I hold out the letter, slightly crumpled from my rush through the halls. Lupin's hands shake as he takes the paper, his face growing somber as he reads the words my father wrote days before his death. The office is silent for a long moment, the only sound is the record player in the corner spinning still even after the music has come to an end. After a long moment, I break the silence again. 

"So? Is it true?" Lupin looks up at me, tears shining unshed in his eyes, and nods slowly. 

"Yes..." I close my eyes, willing myself not to cry as he hands me back the letter. I wait for him to continue but he doesn't. So I do. 

"What, no excuses? No explanation as the where the fuck you've been the last fifteen years? Sirius Black being Harry's godfather is bad enough but you? You seem quite capable. I mean you're alive, seemingly sane and decent and yet I had no idea you existed until 5 months ago. Clearly my father was under the impression you'd have been a good guardian to his children and yet, what? You said no? Disappeared until I was old enough not to be a burden on you? Ran away and left the children of a man who called you brother to the care of their muggle aunt and uncle who made their lives a living hell? I assume you knew the state of my mother's relationship with her sister since you were good enough friends to be her child's godfather!" I rant, barely recognizing my own voice as it's clouded through grief and tears and barely contained anger. 

"Mia-" He takes a step towards me, his hand outstretched and shaking but I step back, shaking my head as tears flow freely down my cheeks now. 

"How could you have left us there? Without even as much as a letter? A visit? Not even a single sign that we were not entirely alone in the world? Do you have any idea what they were like? Any idea what we lived with for 15 years? How they lied to us about who we were ,who our parents were and how they died, how they locked us in the cupboard under the stairs when we used magic before we even knew magic was real!" I'm yelling now, rage over taking any sense of decency or respect for the man standing in front of me, looking guiltier than a man on trial for murder. All the rage I've stuffed down over the years about the circumstances of my life bubbles up as I realize what Harry and I could have been spared. I rage and I rage and I don't care if it wounds this man. "You know, all this time I've been wrong about you. All year, I've thought that you were good and kind, that you were giving Harry and I lessons out of empathy when really all along it's just been guilt! You claim to have cared about our parents and yet you abandoned the children they sacrificed their lives for... You... You're just as much of a coward as Sirius Black." I say before turning on my heel to leave. 

"Mia! I-I tried. I promise you, I tried to take you but... I was told I wasn't fit," Lupin says, his voice breaks on the last word. I close my eyes, for a moment, frozen in my tracks as I stand under the doorframe. 

"Then you didn't try hard enough," I say quietly before slamming the door behind me and running out of the classroom. 

A/N: I’m sorry Remus, I love you I promise. Also i’m sorry it’s another all Mia chapter but Mattheo’s is next, i promise.

[naivesilver]

Just a teeny tiny little something featuring @lizardthelizard 's mess is mine folks + one of my own, because I love them and the urge hit me out of nowhere like a runaway train 🥰

"So let me get this straight-"

"Lampwick, please-"

"You won't let anyone touch this thing you like more than me-"

"Now that's just unfair-"

"And you asked that kid if he wanted to drive it?"

August glances away, having the grace to look at least a bit sheepish. "Technically it's still me driving. Just... A little off."

"Great excuse. Can't wait for the kid's father to hear it." Lampwick takes another drag out of his cigarette, wondering if he's more amused or exasperated by this whole thing. "Or I guess your father, by your reasoning? I'm sure that's gonna go well."

"He's not a little boy. He'll be fine." The other man shifts his weight from one foot to the other, not as convinced as he's trying to sound. "And I'm going with him, anyway. He's not going to be alone."

Several feet from them, the boy in question continues gleefully inspecting August's bike, blissfully unaware they're talking shit about him. He must be about 15, more or less, but the sheer delight on his face makes him look way younger, like a child on Christmas morning - his eyes meet Lampwick's for a brief moment, and he waves politely in greeting, smiling broadly.

Lampwick waves back, then turns to August again with a slight smirk. "Sure. But- don't know if you can really be considered adult supervision, y'know?"

August rolls his eyes, though even his annoyance is touched with fondness. "Look, he just seemed excited to try. He told me he's got his eyes on a bike, too, in his home world. He said he might get it for his next birthday, if he saves up enough."

"Not a monster like this one, hopefully?"

"You spent some time with that other me's sister, didn't you- no, a smaller bike, Lampwick. I'm only trying to show him the ropes, that's all."

"Give baby you a good impression of yourself, you mean." Not that Lampwick can blame him. That boy, that Pinocchio - no one in town has ever seen August at that age, but you could guess the kid's already better adjusted than his counterpart from miles away. Not by much, not entirely, but enough that he can still be carefree and muck around with his friends like another idiot teenager in the realms.

It has to be infectious, that pleasant nature, and August really needs to be around someone like that, at times.

August himself, however, hears none of those thoughts, and instead simply huffs and gives Lampwick a quick kiss, halfway on the move towards the bike already. "Maybe you could try doing the same, if you're not too busy."

"I'm not touching that Lampwick with a ten foot pole, but thanks." That could be the end of it; and yet he can't resist adding, when his boyfriend is fitting the second helmet on the other Pinocchio's head-

"But I'd be careful letting Eliana know what you're doing- I'm not sticking around to watch her scream your ear off for putting him on your death trap, I'm really not."

[ne-videl]

𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚜

♡

soft yandere Pantalone x willing gn reader

soft yandere, sfw, mentions of killing & violence, you've been bought, poor english. honey you're beautiful, I think so, Pantalone does too

word count: ~2k

a/n: AHHH YEEESS AUTUMN DEPRESSION I MISSED YOU I'M FINALLY ABLE TO WRITE AGAIN

not sure how I feel about this one honestly, but whateva. aand the reader isn't exactly willing, rather "my man does shady things but he's rich so I don't mind". another thing I don't like, I wanted "shut up honey my heels are longer than ur dick"

also it's been my birthday recently 🎉

it was a simple deal.

simple and understandable, even for your rather plain mind. you belong to him completely, and in return you won't need anything for the rest of your days. a very simple deal.

"a wonderful Christmas present for you and me, honey." – Pantalone flashed you his business smile while your hand was carefully signing the document. – "undoubtedly wonderful."

you did cost him an arm and leg, but the Harbinger didn't mind spending if the game was worth it. and this particular purchase, in his opinion, was worth every single mora he spent. you're lucky that you're so beautiful; to mesmerized stares of people from the streets, to whitening of knuckles and trembling in someone's hands. in his eyes, you are sweet, charming, but also completely empty – at least, the supposed contents of your insides did not interest him much.

Pantalone knew you like him. who wouldn't? a gallant gentleman, he is handsome, rich and influential; your ticket to a better life, away from becoming one of the street whores.

and he suspected that you felt his condescending patronage, felt how much lower you were than this man in beautiful clothes, like a miniature lapdog in a diamond collar. and yet, you gladly gave yourself into his waiting hands back then; for the sake of a better life, you were ready to make a sacrifice.

♡

the Regrator dresses you in clothes from the most fashionable designers, gives you the most luxurious jewelry – because a person of his status is obliged to keep his possession in a form suitable to him, he tells himself – and softly laughs in response to your uncertain protest. you are so sweet, an absolute charm, how can he resist pampering you a little? even if not a little.

Pantalone finds your old habits funny: swear words, occasionally thrown in a hissing whisper, vulgar laughter in company of your empty-headed friends. he should be upset, but how could he ever be mad at you?

and he certainly can't allow himself any kind of cruelty to you. he listens to your, generally not too important, opinion; entertains himself with rare conversations about various nonsense in your company. and of course, there couldn't be any collars, screaming reminders that you were a Harbinger's property. yet in fleeting gestures, in the way he accompanied you after another evening reception at some important person, one could see that "do not touch. this is mine, and no one else's."

Pantalone was gentle with you, and you seemed to like it; whether in bed, in public, always. with pleasure, he would wrap his expensive coat over your shoulders on a particularly cold evening, cover your neck with strangely tremulous kisses in private.

pleasant, but very piercing eyes were always glued to you, only the most affectionate words were addressed to you, as well as warm, slightly possessive smiles. In his eyes, you were more than worthy of it.

ordinary people visit galleries, rich buy rare paintings, and very rich can afford their own masterpiece, shining for them and them alone within their luxurious estates.

and very rich people do not care about the experiences and inner world of their precious property, because no matter how expensive and desirable it is, a possession cannot have its own will in any way.

"the only reason someone might want to look at you, to unravel your essence, is that you are beautiful," – he once told you.

yet he himself couldn't help but look, to linger with narrowed eyes on your occasional gestures, the slight curves of your neck, little wrinkles in corners of your eyelids when you smile. he could not resist the subconscious attachment growing in his chest, like a disease, far beyond mere physical attraction.

if you spend a long time with other person, you unwittingly let them in. and he, the unreachable 9th Harbinger of Fatui, allowed you to crawl under his very skin; so that now it was impossible to tear off the scent of your perfume from his clothes and erase your image, forever burned under the his eyelids.

he was a bit irritated by this tremulous feeling, this timid adoration swelling under his ribs. yet as soon as your figure appeared in his office once again, he couldn't help but smile. as soon as the familiar sound of shoes on the parquet floor was heard behind the wooden door, awful, uncontrollable part of his calculating brain screamed: – "it's them, they're coming!"

♡

and that same part of his head throbbed intensely when you didn't get home on time for the first time.

silent streets of Snezhnaya are cold, scary and dangerous at night. what if something happens to you?

what if you're with someone else right now, laughing and smiling the same way you're smiling at him?

for the first time in his life, his beautiful hands trembled from the inability to find out where and with whom you were.

he was always aware of every smallest detail of your life. your background, friends and family; your day down to a minute, what you're wearing today; what you like and don't like, what you prefer to eat, and what you dismiss from yourself. but at that very moment, as soon as this well-calculated routine was disrupted, Pantalone fell into a sickening frenzy.

and it wasn't because of a careless guard who made a mistake, not even because you could get hurt. the very thought, the potential possibility that there was something he didn't know about you, made the Harbinger want to break the very fingers which were now unable to touch the ends of your hair for longer than usual.

identical faces of his servants merged into one gray and soulless mass, while he clutched a pen in his elegant hand until it crunched; a vein popping on his pale forehead.

and it didn't matter how many of these identical faces parted with their heads at that evening, no matter how grand was commotion he made in the estate; the important thing was that when you finally appeared on the doorstep, casually throwing your fur coat off your shoulders, his anger faded just like as everyone and everything around your radiant figure always did. nothing else mattered once you giggled in response to his unusually nervous kiss.

he only vaguely remembered that he was going to scold you, but he brushed the thought away from himself like an annoying summer fly; today, he must have allowed you to be late.

Pantalone hasn't fully realized it yet, but he's already allowed you everything a long time ago.

♡

"it is reported that Mr. N. lost his life under unknown circumstances. most probably a murder." – Pantalone finished reading the note with an unusually happy face as soon as dinner was served.

of course, he already knew about it, but he couldn't deny himself the pleasure of telling you about those wonderful news.

you blinked back, silently staring at him in a momentary stupor.

and you've recognized the name of one of your secret admirers; whom you've long since forgotten.

and he, apparently, died. got murdered.

your pretty maid buzzed and squealed while you covered your surprised breath with your palm.

how? who?

but then, after a couple of tense moments in silence, you stealthily shifted your gaze back to the silver fork. well, he died. but you're alive, no?

in fact, why should you waste the exquisitely cooked quails and other delicacies, you thought, staring at a piece of meat.

"what a misfortune," – you uttered dryly, without looking up at the Harbinger's content face.

Pantalone's perfect, almost ugly in it's sweetness smile made it difficult to understand what was going on in his head; but for some reason he seemed incredibly pleased with the death of this man, who only allowed himself to gift you a couple of bouquets and some shiny trinket.

of course, you were stressed out by continued disappearance of your admirers; the curfew irritated you, as well as the endless string of guards accompanying you at every public appearance; his constant awareness of your every step and sigh made your blood boil. and you even wanted to yell at him a little for that, but for some reason, you couldn't.

really, there was no need to ruin such a delightful dinner with some vile scandal – you thought, and continued your meal.

Pantalone was carefully watching your reaction, and noticing that this death – one of many, but you didn't need to know about it – didn't affect you, his charming protégé, in any way, grinned contentedly.

he was happy that your opinions coincided in this. it wasn't difficult for him to order someone's demise, as easy as signing a paper or firing another one of your guards.

the Regrator allowed you a lot, almost everything, but the only thing forbidden under any excuse were other people; regardless of gender, any of your admirers faced one, a very, very gruesome fate.

it was getting ridiculous sometimes: anyone who dared to hold their gaze longer than they were supposed to would be fired immediately.

Pantalone was not a man of honor, but a man of calculation, and if there was a situation where it was necessary to show how cruel and ruthless he could be, it was not a difficult business. and your whole life became one of his many important businesses.

but of course, none of this should have, and did not concern you in any way; your only task was to enjoy a slightly restricted, but no less pleasant life, and not pay attention to things that you weren't supposed to see.

the Harbinger was a little tempted by the idea of breaking you. so that your eyes, cold as pearls wrapped around your neck forever and ever, could only look at him, adore him and no one else. but that same idea terrified him, as a collector is terrified to leave even a tiniest scratch on a perfect marble of an antique statue.

and it wasn't even about your beauty anymore, which he had admired enough already. beauty alone cannot justify the thick photo album in his office, where only you, you, look at him from every single page, laughing, posing against the background of the luxury of the Zapolyarny Palace, where you sleep, eat, read, exist. long letters from numerous business trips cannot be justified either; the way you'd certainly meet each other even on the busiest day; his knowledge of you, to the smallest, most sophisticated details.

consciously or not, Pantalone has long ago removed the stigma of pet from you. you were much more than that, and he realized it only after he had already put you on this imaginary pedestal.

but still, this idea was somewhat hypocritical, because even from the height of this pedestal, you are completely dependent on him. among the silent snows of Snezhnaya, you never had a single person you could rely on; and the only thing which was stopping Pantalone from cruelty was his own weakness to you. after all, if even a single hair fell off your head, he would personally turn the whole country upside down.

and although he no longer dared to consider you an object, you were still his dear property.

♡

for a man who also grew up surrounded by the filth and cruelty of street life, it was strange not to notice the sharp gleam in your beautiful but awfully cold eyes.

you put expensive comb aside and look in the mirror; stare at your face from top to bottom, tapping your cheek with your finger.

you're beautiful, rich, influential to some extent. no matter how you look at it, you're perfect.

so why an animal looks at you from the other side of your mirror? a pet, intimidated by its owner? whose life is planned and controlled from top to bottom, from the tips of always perfectly styled hair to manicured nails? is that really me? – you wanted to ask.

you were annoyed by those dog eyes looking at you from the mirror.

in this polished, sparking world, you had no name or identity; only the indifferent glimmer of jewels slowly suffocating your neck; and your devoted adorer who fiercely refused to acknowledge this obvious adoration of his, masking it behind a manners of an art collector. but not you, you weren't there. but mirrors often lie.

only an idiot wouldn't have realized that Pantalone was downright obsessed with you; and you no longer knew whether you should have continued to pretend to be an idiot, or had to admit the obvious: "this man loves me to the point of losing his pulse. it's mine now."

but on the other hand, no matter how humiliating the prospect of continuing to be his pretty doll seemed to you, it was a pity to give up privileges of such life. your task is small: stand next to him prettily, be silent and smile, and nod your head affably.

it was even a little cute, as he didn't notice the obvious: that you have not been an owner and his property for a long time.

you smiled at your thoughts and went downstairs, right into the arms of your failed master; grabbed his beautiful hand possessively and grinned; to his delight.

"we're going to be late for the meeting, dear." – the richest man of Snezhnaya smiles, obediently allowing you to fix the tie around his neck the way you liked it.

"I don't care, they'll wait." – you left a teasing kiss on his cheek, and rushed to the door. – "I'll be outside."

Pantalone gives your back a laughing look, adjusting his expensive gloves.

indeed, he should've have cut off your legs.

I WILL RUN THROUGH YOU, NOW I RULE YOU TOO!!

I'm planning a Dottore fic, and I wanna make it like, really vile and gross (in a good way) so I hope I will forgive myself for this soft shit

(I died translating this)

that's all for today :)

[dojae-huh]

To the anon who mentioned JaeDo going to Dreamies' concert and spending Chuseok together, omg, I'm glad I am not alone in that thought. They came in and left together the concert together, and I suspected they actually spent Chuseok together. That Q&A with the blanket/bedsheet that you mentioned made me think he was out of town (the blanket was nice, like hotel or airbnb type of quality) and he later uploaded a series of photos in his IG that suggested he vacationed. Add to what dojae-huh-nim said, it actually is plausible. The Dreamies categorize JaeDo often as a unit/couple. Jeno (just recently) and Jaemin already said that Jaedo greeted them together on their birthdays and if my memory serves me correct, the greeting was at around 12 AM (making me suspect more that they do live together/staying together, coz why else would you be together at wee hours lol). Even Jeno gave us the Doyoung-mother and Jaehyun-father canon during his fancall. It's hard not to see that when you look at Jeno and Jaemin, two of the most introverted guys in NCT, warm up the most to Jaehyun and Doyoung. They're almost like their parents.

The thing I cannot quite get over is how accepted JaeDo are with their respective families, even going as far as to their cousins and aunts. Korea is known for being extremely conservative and even though JaeDo's immediate families accepted them, it can be met with resistance from other family members, especially those that are farther the family tree. But seeing how comfortable they are with the family members, wew. I'm glad. They really lucked in this lifetime, huh.

I like that you, readers, started sharing your won observations. The more tidbits the better. I skip many that I notice because I've already covered all common types. You also show that different people with different background, observing same things, come to the same conclusions for the same reasons.

As you said, Dreamies are not as careful with cover ups as 127 neos. It is not always on their mind, so they often say how it is. "Doyoung-ie-hyun and Jaehyun-ie-hyung congratulated first, they called right after 12" - something like that. 127 neos try to break the two and not mention their names together.

Fans also noticed how often Jae and Do update their IGs one by one? in a span of a cople of minutes. Making some even think Do has a password from Jae's IG and just does the work. (I don't know about travel pics, but "obligatory" pictures from concerts I can imagine, heh). It is not a far stretched idea because managers do it for some artists.

Sidenote: have you noticed how Tae and Jae have started posting many similar pictures like Do does? Not selecting the best ones, just dumping a bunch? Copycats...

Anyway.

JaeDo are definitely fortunate with their families. It's not nesessary that their relationship is explained how it is to the extended family(ies). Taeyong also visited Do's house in Guri. Do invited JN, Yuta and Ten to spend Christmas in the past.

They are also very lucky that there are no homophobes in 127 and in NCT. Although, I think them both being known prior to them coming out could have helped in some cases (they were "great people, how can you not love them" first).

As for Korea being conservative. It is so, but a lot depends on the level of religiousness of an individual and on the current politics. Most people are passive and don't care either way, don't harbour real hate. SK holds annual gay parades. Like in Russia, a few decades ago Tatu was sent on Eurovision and MTV awards, now LGBT is called extremist.

[thr4shit]

Help. Why is my brain screaming at me that Glam has an Animal Crossing obsession.

Like, we have the whole "Dee's special interest is MLP" basically as a fandom...

Yeah, totally, I fucking love that.

But my brain just randomly wandered from that, to Glam and went: "You know... he'd really like ACNH..."

And now it won't leave my brainspace.

I'm just stuck imagining Glam calmly sitting on his bed crisscross applesauce, holding a Switch in his hands as he happily wanders the island talking to his villagers.

(Headcannons about this below the cut)

- Glam discovered Animal Crossing through Heavy, who asked for the game for a birthday/christmas

- Glam only started playing originally because Heavy didn't want to play alone, and Dee didn't play consistently (Dee plays too, but very sporadically)

- Glam has about 5,000+ hours on the game (about double what Heavy has)

- Glam has a separate console (likely a Switch Lite) for his own island, and is Switch friends with Heavy, Dee and Victoria.

- Glam plays on average a few hours a day (usually to do all daily tasks. talk, gift, fish, bug catch, craft, clean, etc.)

- Glam's island is consistently rated at 5 stars

- Glam is very centered on organization, his island is very neat and he spent a lot of time making it look nice (and changes decorations in accordance to the holiday/season. Like I'm talking designated areas for flowers and plants, trees, houses, shops, etc. it is mapped out in a VERY efficient way.)

- Glam hates the house decorating rating system (it's the only thing on his island that isn't at it's best) because, for some reason, they hate his decorating. (He never gets a perfect score, and their criticisms confuse him)

Some of his favorite villagers:

(He tends to choose villagers by appearance first, but if he doesn't like their personality he tries to get them off the island as soon as possible)

(help- the more I think about this, the more I realize he'd also probably be into Stardew Valley...)

[c-o-r-r-u-p-t]

It would be different if I felt wanted by you.

That’s all I ever wanted, but you don’t make me feel that way. It’s more than just not being affectionate or complimenting me, but it’s that you didn’t put in the effort to make me feel good. I mean you did for things like my birthday but I never even got a Christmas present. You tried to make me a sweater but it didn’t work and you never got around to trying again. Idk it’s things like that. It’s that you were okay with spending new years and your birthday without me. It’s that you were okay with leaving me alone on Valentine’s Day. How you literally said please sleep with someone else then spent like 12 hours yelling at and insulting me. How you don’t come to my place. How my cat doesn’t know who you are. How you’ve never tried to meet my friends and avoided meeting my family. How you stopped wanting me to sleep in your bed. How you pushed me away when I got too close but don’t let me walk away. How you were falling in love with me then just never got there. You just stopped. You don’t want me you just don’t want me to be anyone else’s. And I need to remind myself that instead of texting you and asking you to give me a reason not to go out with that girl again tomorrow

[averysmolbear]

Because @bnhxwks asked me to answer all the rest of those self ship questions it is time for a very long post and I apologize if it’s annoying. Thank you for enabling me! I also hope I caught all the spelling mistakes.

💌 Reiner doesn’t write anything too flowery but every single words is painstakingly thought out. He will agonize over every word, wanting to get it right. He’ll even rewrite it several times if he has to in order to get it right but in the end, they are the sweetest letters, filled with his thoughts and favorite memories of us.

🍷 Reiner was such a wreck. He was nervous because he wanted our first date to be perfect. We went to a nice restaurant — nothing too fancy — and then took a walk along the waterfront. He even made us stop for ice cream. We stayed out to stargaze a bit (but he stared at me more than anything else) and he made sure to take me home. He even asked before kissing me good night.

😘 Our first kiss was at the end of our first date. He asked for permission first and it was soft and sweet but Reiner was clearly nervous. He kept his hands firmly on my hips the whole time.

😳 Reiner will sneak up behind me and whisper the dirtiest things in my ear while holding my hips and keeping me pressed up against him. He’ll do it when we’re alone or in public. Either way, it gets me every time. The easiest way for me to fluster Reiner is to give him a firm smack on his ass. He blushes every single time.

😍 I knew I fell for Reiner after our first date. (Yes, that soon.) He sent me flowers the next day and showed up with a pint of my favorite ice cream. He tried to be sneaky and leave it at my door but I caught him. He swears he fell for me before he even knew my name. He saw me at the farmer’s market while I was shopping alone and he says he just knew we would end up together.

😴 If we’re sitting on the couch, I’m always cuddled in at Reiner’s side. At some point, he’ll pull me on to his lap though. Sometimes he’ll lay down with his head in my lap while I’m sitting down so I can play with his hair too. If we’re laying down together, I’ll usually lay half on him with my head on Reiner’s chest (he’ll play with my hair or nuzzle his nose in my hair) or we’ll spoon.

🥰 My favorite thing is how he tries so hard to remember the things I like so he can surprise me with them later, like bringing home my favorite cupcakes for no reason other than he saw them and they reminded him of me.

💭 He would probably be thinking about all of the little things he loves about me. Everyone calls him a lovesick puppy for a reason!

💋 He loves to kiss my fingertips and the crook of my neck, depending on if he’s just being sweet or if he’s trying to turn me on. (But that’s only if he’s not kissing my lips.)

{I’m dumb and couldn’t find the emoji} When I’m sad, he’ll hold me and rub my back and let me cry it out. Then he suggests we bake cookies together to try to cheer me up!

💐 Reiner loves when I get him daisies. Mostly because it’s what I got him once for his birthday and he had never had someone get him flowers before so they became his favorite. He loves getting me roses but he’ll often surprise me with stargazer lilies because he knows they’re my favorite.

🎄 Christmas Eve is spent with his family, having dinner and exchanging gifts. We go to my family’s on Christmas Day in the afternoon for an early dinner and gift exchange. But Reiner and I will exchange one gift at midnight on Christmas Eve/Day and then we open any other gifts after getting home from Christmas with my family.

🎁 Reiner is happy with practical gifts but he loves when I make him something, like a scrapbook or photo album. He usually gets me things that he knows I won’t get for myself, like a slightly expensive perfume or a first edition copy of my favorite novel.

🎟️ There’s a reason our movie dates happen at home now. Reiner will get distracted even when he picks the movie. He ends up with his hands under the blanket we’re snuggling under and the next thing either of us know, we’re having sex on the couch. We’ve been kicked out of movie theaters because Reiner can’t keep his hands to himself even in public.

[weanda]

Like a headshot

The Christmas period was a nightmare for me. Terribly stressful. Earlier fights and yelling opened up many childhood and teenage wounds. I remembered memories that I had forgotten for years or decades because my brain had hidden them from me. It erased them and I always hoped they were gone forever. These memories and all the feelings associated with them are like bodies emerging from the pitch black and each tearing a piece out of me. Then the same memory comes to mind again, or another one, and the figures tear out another one and another one. I felt my soul bleed out…

I experienced Christmas as fake, superficial and forced. My birthday is the same, because apart from my family members, not a single friend greeted me. Everyone has forgotten me. Everybody. That's why I didn't even have a birthday, there was no cake, no party, no presents, so I decided that I hadn't even aged a year. I deserve an extra year!

V spent New Years in a ski resort and invited me to join him. But the plane ticket would have been very expensive for me, not to mention the accommodation and skiing (which he offered to pay for, but I couldn't accept it) and I couldn't even take a day off from work, so I couldn't go... and R also invited me to a party and everything was going well until the day before when he canceled it. R gave a rather evasive answer, and it was very disappointing, especially since he thought he was in time so that I could plan something else… So on New Year's Eve, I was alone, drank palinka and went out into the city and watched with strangers and couples as Budapest was flooded with fireworks.

I was so lonely that my chest broke...

I have terrible headaches. Up to dizziness, nausea, uncontrollable breathing and crying. I sweat and my limbs are cold, I often don't feel the temperature, I'm not cold, I'm not hungry or thirsty, there were days when I just lay there and couldn't open my eyes. I have no energy, I can't move around the apartment, but I can't fall asleep. January is slowly coming to an end and I realized that I haven't slept in a month and a half (just 3-5 hours a day, and that's horrific).

Weeks passed like this. My family members tried to talk to me, but they complain a lot about each other (for reasons) and I can't add to that. I feel smaller and smaller. I visited them a week ago because I thought I could stand their company, but I couldn't. I locked myself in the room and couldn't stand to get up, look at them or speak to them. We had a fight that morning when I got home. I mean, I just ran away…

By the end of January, I seem to be pulling myself together. I talk more with my friends, I went skating, V and I wrote more recently and talked about seeing each other this year (he still lives two thousand kilometers away, but it seems he hasn't forgotten about me and that's warm me up), and I finally reconciled with R as well. It is true that sometimes he says things that hurt me, but at the same time I am not well either, and my reactions are also because of my wounded soul, not only because R is so hot & cold with me. It's true both but not fair, but none of us are perfect. And I can (have to) accept it.

But I always remind myself of my goals and how crappy the last month and most of my teenage years have been, and I promise myself that I won't let myself down again.

I've had a shitty month, but now I'm looking to the future. I learn more. I'm working on my motorcycle license, I'm studying to be a photographer (my coworkers support and are happy for me), I go to the library to study aaaand sleep a little haha, my friends and colleagues motivate me in training and running, I'm learning Spanish and soon I'll be taking guitar lessons. I still love playing on the playstation, and I want to finish The Last of Us again! I still go to the animal shelter to walk dogs, but unfortunately it only happens once a month due to studying and my work. I miss the dogs, but I will see them this week :) I tried 1-2 new restaurants and cafes this month, so that if I eat a little, at least it's delicious. But the goal is still to train with a high protein intake, so that's what I'm going to focus on!

This cinnamon and chocolate roll is my new favourite snack while I'm at the library 🤍

[c4p7ch4]

One-Shot: Basta (Inkheart) x OC

welp, reading the latest Basta content on here made my mind go down a spiral I couldn't escape and I had to write this idea down, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to find peace, enjoy!

Warning: might be out of character, it's the middle of the night and I can't think straight, also: English is not my first language

24th of December. It was Zeras first Christmas Eve in Capricorns Village. Not that it mattered, if she hadn't bribed one of the boys to bring her back a newspaper from the nearby village, she would have missed it's passing anyways. In Capricorns Village, the feeling of time got completely lost and neither capricorn nor his men ever celebrated any holidays.

Sometimes they celebrated for no reason at all, using the opportunity as an excuse to get drunk 'til unconciousness. Some blackjackets would celebrate their birthdays, but most times they partied to celebrate a triumph, like the subjugation of another village or the torching of the house of a rebellious farmer who didn't want to pay his tribute.

Zera hated these occasions, her position of the villages doctor obligated her to take care of any drunkards that were stupid and aggressive enough to start a fight with each other and get hurt.

But tonight promised to be calm. The days got dark early and made most of the men too tired and slothful to stay awake for too long.

Basta was the exception. Sometimes it seemed that he didn't sleep at all. Zera would see him aimlessly strolling in the streets at ungodly times, times when she would stare out of the window of her prison cell in the kitchen of Capricorns mansion, waiting for the night to pass or for sleep to take her.

In the end, Bastas restlessness got the best of him and he got the flu. Either his immune system was terribly weak or he was a terrible cry baby, but 2 days ago he showed up at Zeras doorstep and asked for medical advice.

He could barely stand (or maybe pretended to be this weak, but his red swollen eyes and runny nose and hoarse voice were proof enough for Zera not to send him away) and Zera put him to bed in one of the spare sleeping quarters next to the kitchen. She's been nursing him since then, bringing him his food and medicine to bed, sometimes a hot tea which he'd only drink with lots of sugar, otherwise he wouldn't be able to "gulp down this terrible potion of yours", other times she'd bring a wet cloth to clean himself- he sweated a lot because of the fever, but he refused to take off his shirt. Zera wouldn't argue, if he wanted to postpone his recovery this badly, so be it, she didn't have the time nor the energy to start a meaningless discussion.

Zera was shocked about herself when she realised that she liked seeing Basta suffer- it was only a portion of the suffering he put other people through. She was even more shocked when she realised, that she almost liked him for company in this state: too weak to seem a threat, too drought to be angry and irritable for too long. It was almost possible to have a somewhat normal conversation with him.

This night, they were talking about holidays. Or more: Zera was interrogating Basta about the holidays they'd celebrate in the inkworld. She hated that he came from such an interesting and enchanting world- it was too much fun, to have him talk about his fantastical home, to keep away from him and alienate him for the horrible person he is. It was such a welcome change to all the restless nights she spent alone, sitting in the dark shadows of her prison.

After sometime, Zera asked:

"What about birthdays? Do you celebrate the day you were born or the day you were christened?"

"The day we were what? No, those that do celebrate, celebrate on the day they were named by their parents." Basta said confused, then added after thinking for a moment: "Which happens for most people to be the day they were born."

Basta raised his cup of tea to his mouth, still full to the brim but no longer hot, when Zera asked another question and made him lower his cup again to answer.

"And when is your birthday? I've been here for a year now, but I've never seen you be celebrated. I imagined, Capricorns first in command would throw himself quite a feast, getting drunk with all his friends, beating each other up for fun and get even more drunk to make up for the bruises" Zera teased and expected a smug look to turn up on his face. His expression turned empty instead and he lowered his look to his cup.

"I never celebrated my birthday. I don't even know what day it is" he muttered.

"You don't know the day you were born?" Zera asked amused, but her smile vanished when she saw the grim look on Bastas face.

"Can't you shut up for a moment and let me drink this awful brew of yours in peace? It's not even warm anymore, that's how long you've been talking all over my ears!" he snapped at her.

Stunned, Zera watched him for a moment, not knowing what to say. 'Well, seems like he is healthy enough to be himself again.' She thought to herself.

Without another word she stood up from the chair, she was sitting on, next to Bastas bed, and left for the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

She wanted to be angry at Basta for being rude, but she couldn't help but think about what he just told her.

He never celebrated his birthday, and he doesn't even know the date. That means, no one ever celebrated with him. Not even his parents? Not even his friends?

Thinking about it, Zera wondered if he even had friends. She concluded, that he didn't have any. He was too much of an irritable person to be around and the men, even though they made fun of him behind his back, feared him and his knife and his uncontrollable anger and short temper.

Zera strolled through the empty kitchen, a ray of moonlight, that cut through the window, drew her attention to some abandoned cooking utensils.

Damn you Basta, I'm not gonna celebrate my christmas sad and hungry.

After scavenging the kitchen, Zera decided to make herself something sweet, a little treat to have a small portion of her freedom back. While preparing the oven and mixing together a dough of flour and cocoa, her thoughts wandered back to Basta.

She wanted to be angry at him, but Christmas wasn't the time to be angry, was it?

An awful, awful idea crept up in Zeras mind. She tried to surpress it, but after she finished mixing the dough, she thought to herself 'Screw it' and went ahead with her plan.

When she was finished, she hesitated, waiting in front of the door to the room Basta was in, wondering if she should screw this plan after all.

Maybe he was already asleep anyways. And heaven only knows what happens, if I wake him up for something as stupid as this-

Before Zera could finish her train of thought, the door before her fell open and Basta crashed into her, not expecting for her to stand right outside the door.

The little candle, that sticked out of the small chocolate cake she held in hands, almost caught onto Bastas shirt. He took a few steps back and frantically searched his sleeves for any signs of catching fire.

"The hell?! What were you doing?"

Zera didn't know what to answer.

'Oh, I don't know, I just felt sympathy for your sad backstory of never having a birthday celebrated in your life and thought, honoring the spirit of christmas, we could celebrate it now to make up for all those lost years'

Instead of answering verbally, she held up the cake to Bastas face.

He took a step back with a fearful expression. Fear turned to irritation and he asked:

"What's that?"

"A cake"

"Yeah, no shit? I meant, what's it for? And why did you put a candle in it?"

"It's your birthdaycake. Birthdaycakes have candles for you to blow out and make a wish."

Basta looked confused, then irritated again.

"But, it's not even my birthday"

"We don't know. You said you didn't know when your birthday is. Maybe it is today"

Basta still looked suspicious and confused. And Zera grew more and more embarassed. She couldn't look him im the eyes and after a while of both of them just standing in the doorway, she asked irritated:

"Well, you want it or what? I don't plan on standing here all night! Now go and get a fork- if you make a mess, I'm not gonna clean it up!"

Zera regrettet her words as soon as they left her mouth. Did she really just give Basta a command? Basta doesn't take commands!

She braced herself for his wrath, but it didn't come. Instead, he strolled past her to the kitchen and did as she bid. Now he was the one who was too stunned to speak.

Zera breathed heavily and went back to her chair. Basta came back, settled down on the bed and hesitated to take the cake from her.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I don't want any, it's yours."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"I wouldn't waste the cocoa. Now take it, it's chocolate"

Basta took the plate, wary of the burning candle, and set it down in his lap, looking down at it, contemplating for a moment. Then he went on to take the still burning candle out. Zera held him back before he took it out.

"Don't! You have to make a wish and blow it out first!"

He looked at her confused, not at her face but on the small hand that held down his.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well...because it's tradition" she said and drew back her hand.

Basta sighed annoyed, but raised the plate to his mouth.

"If you insist..." he mumbled and thought for a moment, then went on "I wish for-"

"Stop!" Zera interrupted again and Basta looked up at her, more stunned than annoyed.

''You mustn't say your wish out loud! Otherwise it won't work!"

Zera has never been superstitious and thought it childish herself to insist on these vanities, but if this was Bastas first birthday-celebration, it was to be done properly.

"Any other instructions you have for me or can we get this over with?" Basta asked, Zera noticed that his face was flushed, but blamed it on the fever.

"You have to close your eyes when you make your wish"

Basta rolled his eyes, annoyed, but went ahead with it and for a moment, his face was fully relaxed.

It was almost mesmerizing to see him like this- at peace, almost a dreamy expression.

Then he blew out the candle, Zera took the candle and gestured Basta to start eating while she went to put the candle away. It took her a while to get back to him, she needed some time to calm down from a weird stomach ache that suddenly occured. Maybe she was getting sick too.

By the time she came back, he had fully finished his plate. She took it away and without another word spoken, they both got ready for bed.

When they both settled down for the night- Basta in bed and Zera slouched over the chair, feet leaning on the feets end of Bastas bed, just like the previous nights, Zera asked him:

"What did you wish for?"

"I thought, I wasn't supposed to tell. You said it wouldn't work if I did"

"Screw that, it doesn't work anyways. Now tell me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know"

"I'm not going to tell you"

"Well, then I'm just gonna mess with you until you do"

Zera kicked Bastas feet.

"Come on, tell me"

She kicked again.

"What did you wish for?"

"Would you please let me sleep?" Basta snapped.

"Let me think... no. First you have to tell me what you wished for."

As an answer, Basta threw a pillow at her, throwing her off balance and knocking her off the chair. Zera fell to the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"Serves you right" Basta growled and turned his back to her.

"Fine, then don't tell me" Zera said defeated and sat back on her unconfortable chair.

"A kiss" Basta said after a while into the dark, he wasn't even sure, if Zera was still awake.

"What?" she asked fully awake.

"My wish. I wished for a kiss"

"That's it? Pretty basic, why wish for a kiss?" Zera dared to ask.

"I don't know." Basta replied.

After a while he added: "I want to know what it feels like"

Zera didn't reply. It sounded like she was asleep.

She wasn't.

She waited a while, maybe an hour or two, and when it sounded like Basta was asleep, she quietly got up, searched for his face in the dark and lighlty pressed her lips to his. Then she settled back down on her chair and went back to sleep.

Basta did not.

[vinbee631]

Welcome to the Family

day 3!! thank you guys for all the support on the last two works, it really means a lot! (and keeps me motivated to actually do these lol)

listen this doesn't completely fit the prompt but it's too late not it's already here :)

i used the day four (winter) prompt today, so day 3 will be tomorrow actually!!

enjoy! <3

Roman’s family was absolutely massive. Roman himself had a twin and four other siblings, and that wasn’t even taking into account his parents’ siblings and niblings. 

So, family reunions were entirely chaotic.

Roman loved it, the loud, exuberant voices of relatives seeing each other for the first time in a year or two, kids excitedly weaning through his feet and playing little games that could keep anyone entertained, and his Abuela, the head of the house, gathering everyone together like a flock of sheep that moved at the speed of a hurricane.

This year, however, he was a bit more worried about the chaos. Not worried for himself! No, he always knew he was going to have a fantastic time!

This year, he was bringing Logan along.

Logan’s family was tiny, just his mother and grandfather had been available to celebrate holidays, birthdays, and other accomplishments. 

Roman thought that sounded incredibly boring, but Logan’s small family made him happy. 

Except, after Logan had made it through college and received his degree, he’d decided to come out to his little family, thinking that, after all the time they’d spent, just the three of them, they would be nothing but supportive.

He was very wrong about that.

It had been a year since they had last spoken, and this was about to be Logan’s first Christmas ever, completely alone. 

Not if Roman had anything to say about it.

Of course, he gave Logan the option to decline, but after seeing how excited Roman was about the opportunity for his family to meet one of his closest friends, it was almost impossible for him to say no.

Roman knew that if at any point Logan felt uncomfortable or unsure, he could simply leave, and there wouldn’t be any problems. He just… he really wanted things to go fantastically! And he was going to make sure he did everything in his power to make it so.

Logan was only coming for the last day of a week-long event. His entire family would drive, or fly, to his grandmother’s house, some staying there, some scattered in other relatives’ houses or in hotels. 

The week leading up to the holiday itself was packed full of family activities, chaotic dinners spread out at a comically long table, and so much love Roman’s heart was full to the brim and it stayed that way for about a month after he left.

He wouldn’t trade these holidays for anything. 

When he told Gram, the head of the whole shebang, about his plans to bring a friend, she was ecstatic. It had been a few years since any more grandchildren had come along (although one of Roman’s aunts was expecting). They were due for another new face at the table. 

He’d gotten quite a few excited texts when he announced the news to the rest of his family. 

(And a few teasing ones asking about a potential boyfriend, but he was used to brushing those off that this point.)

It was a good thing he’d texted them, too, because he’d almost forgotten about the all important gift exchange. He hadn’t been planning on making Logan participate, but once he heard about it, his friend practically refused to not join in.

“It would be a bit awkward if I were the only one there with no gift. Besides, I can’t say I’ve ever participated in one before, other than the normal Christmas presents I gave to my family, so I suppose this will be a fun new experience,” Logan had reasoned.

Once Roman found out it was his first gift exchange? Yeah no, he wasn’t getting out of it. 

Soon, but not fast enough, winter break finally arrived. Roman and Logan drove up to Georgia together a week before Christmas. Logan didn’t have to participate in anything other than the celebration the day of, but it gave him a chance to explore the area (and it saved the boys some gas money if they were to travel separately).

Roman really hoped everything was going to work out.

…

Although, in hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have given Logan the aux cord.

It was not Logan’s first road trip, fortunately. Roman would have been insufferable the whole way if it was. Their friend group had driven down to California one year to visit some of Janus’ family and sightsee. 

Logan had sat in the back for that trip, but he had still been goaded into many road trip “traditions,” most of which were only slightly annoying.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to handle the music, but now that he had the chance, he could tell Roman was regretting his choice. 

“Does it have to be podcasts?” Roman groaned, only half an hour into their four-hour drive. 

“You were the one who put me in control here, and you never said it had to be music. You only instructed that I not ‘pick something cringey,’ and I believe I’ve accomplished that.”

Roman just groaned again, ignoring Logan’s gentle and unnecessary reminder to keep his eyes on the road. “But I’m the one that has to drive us there! If I fall asleep at the wheel from sheer boredom, you are completely to blame!”

“If you think this is boring, I can’t imagine what monstrosities of music you are going to subject me to on the way home.” Logan shook his head, trying to keep the teasing smirk off his face.

“Oh, whatever. I suppose I’ll live. It better not be podcasts the whole time, though. I know you do actually like music. I’ve seen your playlists.” 

“Oh, whatever,” Logan mocked, “the music will come when I feel like it.”

“Never let anyone convince you you’re not just as childish as I am,” Roman huffed, reaching over to flick Logan on the arm. 

“Keep both your hands on the wheel!” Logan complained, but he was smiling, so Roman considered that a win. 

Despite so readily agreeing to come with him, Logan had been genuinely upset about the holiday season. Roman knew just how much his mother and grandfather had meant to him, and they threw their relationship away with him very quickly. 

It made him sick to think about it, and he couldn’t even imagine how it made Logan felt. 

Now, it served as a reminder that he really needed to make things perfect. Logan was likely already in a bit of a sour mood, and the whole reason he was going was to avoid that. If his family made things worse, Roman would never forgive himself. 

“So, is there anything you’re planning on doing other than spending time with me?” Roman questioned, getting antsy in the silence, even with the podcast droning on silently in the background.

“And your family,” Logan tacked on, “but yes, I suppose there are a few things in the area I would enjoy checking out this week. Although, I haven’t thought to put together any sort of itinerary. I figured your family would also have plans I may want to join you for.”

“You know, you don’t have to spend the entire week with my family. I know I invited you to spend time with them, and me, but this is also about you. They can be… well I mean, there are a ton of us. I understand if it’s too overwhelming to throw yourself into at first.”

“Roman, really, I’ll be alright. I’m sure it’s going to be… different than most of my other experiences with family, but I’m prepared for it. You don’t have to worry.”

“Well, I’m going to anyway,” Roman huffed, but the two exchanged a smile, and he was already starting to feel a bit better about this thing.

“Now, keep your eyes on the road!” 

…

The rest of the week passed in an incredibly joyful (and incredibly chaotic) haze. Logan and Roman had booked a hotel room about five minutes out from Roman’s grandma, but that really didn’t matter much. They spent basically the whole day, every day, out doing something.

One day it was aquariums, yes, plural! The next, Roman’s uncles were inviting them to wine tastings and restaurants, and whatever else. 

Roman had been consistently worried that something was going to overwhelm Logan, but everytime he checked in with him, he was so unashamedly happy. 

Roman was more than a little proud his plan was working. 

After a crazy long week, and yet far too soon, the very last day came along. Roman spent almost the entire day running around with the kids and keeping them entertained. While he would have enjoyed the company, he was ecstatic to find Logan had stuck behind with his Gram to help with cooking. 

And getting to see his face when Logan actually got to eat all the food they made? 

Yeah, this was maybe the best Christmas ever.

And then, as soon as dinner was over, a flurry of movement rose from the table as the enitre family, Logan included, huddled into the living room for the gift exchange.

When Logan made his way in, he was pleased to find Roman had saved him a seat. He smiled gratefully, settling down onto one of the couches to see what was going on.

He caught the tail end of a growing argument between the sea of kids. Seriously, Roman had a ton of niblings. How did he keep track of all of them? Logan admired him for it.

Oh, right, screaming kids. That was still going on. They were all crowded around the tree, some holding presents, some simply jumping up and down and waiting for the main event to get started.

“No, no, no! It was your turn last year!”

“But I’ve never gotten a turn! You’re big, you’ve already had two!!”

“You’re not even holding your present! That’s Auntie Gabby’s!”

“What if we let our new guest have the first turn this time?” The children all went silent simultaneously (good going, Gram), one of them rushing over and selecting a gift to place in Logan’s lap. “That one says you!” They exclaimed with a bright smile.

Logan accepted the parcel gratefully, although the stares that accompanied it were not as pleasant. Roman gently squeezed his shoulder in that comforting way of his. 

Before he moved to open the thing, he suddenly realized he still had no idea what was going on. Was he even supposed to open this?

One of the older kids, sensing his overwhelming conclusion, took pity on him and caught everyone’s attention so they could explain. Or re-explain, for everyone else.

“So! As everyone here knows, except our special guest-” the kid (Bristol! Logan suddenly remembered) sent a wink in his direction- “for the past couple of years, as the family has gotten bigger and bigger, the yearly gift exchange has gotten… a bit complicated. 

“Instead of giving people normal gifts, because of this problem, we decided to have a little… I guess it’s kind of a competition, to see who could get someone the goofiest gift they can find! Ro, I figured you would have told him about this, since we added him to the gift pool and everything!”

Roman shrugged helplessly. “I forgot he wouldn’t know what was going on! I did make him actually buy his present, though, so I hope you picked something good, Logie,” he teased lightly.

“Considering the person Gram picked for me was you, I think I got something perfect,” he shot back, smirking a bit at the betrayed expression Roman shot his grandma. 

“Oh, so when I ask to be his gift exchange it’s a no, but him having me is perfectly fine?” Gram laughed, boisterous and loud in a way that reminded Logan so clearly of his friend. “Oh come on, let an old woman have her fun. I was perhaps cutting Logan a bit of a break since this is his first-ever Christmas with the Rey-os Incarnate family. But you’re used to this, you’ll live.”

Roman huffed, folding himself back into his chair. “Fine. I’ll bet my gift’s cooler than yours, though. Also, that was not your best pun.”

“Alright, enough, enough! I wanna see Lo-Lo open his present!” Elliot cut in, the little one practically bouncing in excitement along with his cousins. 

“I don’t know why I let you convince them to call me that,” Logan grumbled, but he did comply and opened up his present. 

The wrapping paper revealed a flimsy, clothing box, which Logan folded open to find a large, chunky sweater. Like, obnoxiously chunky.

“I didn’t have very much time to make it, so there might be a few loose ends. But, everyone in the family has to have one,” Gram explained with a smile. She made this for him??

Logan stared at the item in his lap, the sweater hiding his legs completely. It was fairly simple, a plain sweater with a large letter “L” on the front. 

But it was his. And she’d made it for him.

“I- I was under the impression these were supposed to be comedic gifts.” Logan realized, quite mortifyingly, that the thing had nearly reduced him to tears.

“Oh, trust me, it normally is. Everyone here’s got one, and some of them are quite the creations. But, I suppose it does seem a bit more sentimental to you. I hope I’ll get to make you some even weirder ones in the future, honey.” 

Logan, by some miracle, kept his composure enough to keep his cheeks dry through the entire hug Gram gave him. “Welcome to the family, Logan.” 

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Now he was crying. 

Suddenly, he was enveloped in warmth as the entire family tried to cram themselves together for a massive group hug. They didn’t all fit but the thought, the effort they provided for someone that they hadn’t even met until this morning, touched Logan’s heart completely.

He understood now why Roman had been so worried. He’d wanted everything to go perfectly because he didn’t want Logan to miss out on this, this incredible outpouring of love and acceptance, something he realized he’d never really had in this amount before.

As much as he had teased Roman for his mother-henning earlier, there was no amount of thanks he could provide that would make up for the experience Roman had given him.

He got a pretty comfy sweater out of it, too.

aaaand that's it! can you tell i'm a sucker for logan angst and hurt/comfort lmaoo, i promise i will make one more roman centered too, I just have a hard time writing him and i had very little time to write today <3