#also I know it’s late but it’s still Christmas for *checks watch* 12 more minutes in my time zone

[zsbrainrot]

Even after 10 years Christmas is still their favorite Holiday ❤️

Merry Christmas Everyone!

[vivianweasley]

Let Her Go (F.W. x Reader)

Summary: “Only know you love her when you let her go.” childhood friends to lovers, unrequited love

Prompt: This is for @vogueweasley‘s 1K writing challenge and the prompt is #44 “What am I in your life? Because as of lately I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.” Congrats again lovely!!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst to a bit of fluff, unrequited love, mention of alcohol (Fred being drunk), language (one curse word), Fred being stupid

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Did I write another friends to lovers with unrequited love? Yes, but I love this idea and I’m just writing to cope. The inspiration is Let Her Go by Passenger! Hope you guys would like it! (Also, let’s pretend they used telephone)

Special thanks to @valwritesx for the support<3

Disclaimer: all the pictures used in the header are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without explicit permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)

In your memories, you were always following Fred Weasley around.

You followed him around when he and George were throwing dungbombs in their neighbor’s garden. You were six, and he was seven.

You followed him around when it was your first year at Hogwarts. You were an awkward first year, but he has already established quite a reputation.

You followed him everywhere. Whether it was a quidditch game or detention, you were always there with him. Some people called you his sidekick, but you never really minded because you were absolutely head over heels for him.

You knew he knew about your stupid little crush; you weren’t trying to hide your feelings anyway. And you knew that your feelings weren’t reciprocated, but that didn’t matter. Loving him was your own business. Plus, you knew that at least you meant something to him, so you’ve still got a chance.

You loved him with all your heart and without a doubt. It was one-sided and lonely, but you never cared. Well, at least not until now.

~

It was your party to celebrate receiving a brilliant job offer from America. All of your friends were there.

“I’m so happy for you! But I’m also gonna miss you a lot!” George exclaimed for like the twentieth time today.

You chuckled, “I know, Georgie, I’ll miss you too! And I’m not leaving until the end of the next month. I’ve still got a lot to take care of before I go.” Now that you were actually talking about leaving, the whole concept of living in another country so far away finally began to feel more realistic. “There are just so many things and people I’ll miss.”

“By people, you mean Fred, right?” Ginny teased, “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“I don’t know. He promised he would come,” you replied, couldn’t control the blush that was climbing up your cheeks.

Ginny was right. Of course you were going to miss all of your friends dearly, but you were also going to miss Fred just a little more than the others. And that’s why you were a bit disappointed that he was so late to your party. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking the clock and the door every now and then. The butterflies in your stomach started dancing whenever you heard something outside, but they always die down when you realized it wasn’t him.

The clock soon struck 12, and when you were saying goodbye to the last of the guests, you finally accepted the fact that Fred was not going to show up tonight. 

~

You were helping at the joke shop the next day, and it was already noon when you heard Fred walking down the stairs. 

“Morning,” you could still hear the sleepiness in his voice, and you could tell from his messy hair and puffy eyes that it was a hangover. You frowned a little but you tried not to overthink. Surely he had a good reason, right?

“It’s already noon, brother,” George asked the question for you, “where were you last night?”

“I ran into Lee after work, and we went to the pub. Why?”

“Why? It was Y/N’s party last night, you forgot?”

“Wait, it was last night? Ah shit, I forgot. I’m sorry Y/N,” he turned to look at you. You could see the sorry on his face, but you couldn’t hear it in his voice. You knew that expression all too well. It was the same reaction whenever he got caught playing pranks on someone. He was saying that he’s sorry, but you knew he didn’t mean it.

“Fred, you do realize that she’s leaving soon, right?” George was finding this unbelievable too.

“Oh c’mon, last time I checked, we still have something called a portkey. And I’m sure Y/N will be visiting us pretty often, right Y/N?” The carelessness in his voice stung you.

Hurt, mixed with anger, was rushing to your brain. It was the moment that struck you, a moment that should have happened a long time ago. 

You always thought that even though Fred didn’t love you back, at least you were still a very important friend to him. But now you’ve finally realized that maybe this was just another self-comforting lie. It was not the first time he forgot something about you, and it seemed like he never cared anyway. 

“What am I in your life?” You asked quietly, “Because as of lately, I feel as though I’ve been nothing to you.”

“What are you saying? Y/N, you’re not making any sense.”

“I always thought it’s alright that my feelings aren’t reciprocated because it’s just my own business. But I’m not just that stupid girl who has a crush on you; I’m also your friend! And friends shouldn’t treat friends like nothing.” Your voice sounded calm, but tears were streaming down your face, “It was always me who’s looking for you and thinking about you, but friendship takes two, Fred. Maybe you should start trying too.” 

Then you just stormed out of the joke shop, before George could try to talk you round and before Fred could probably tell a joke to laugh it off.

~

One week later, you left for your new job in a hurry. You said goodbye to every one of your friends, except for Fred. 

Fred was feeling guilty but also confused. Why did you snap like that? What he did was surely just a small mistake, right? And he wasn’t too worried. He was sure that you would forgive him and come back to him. You always do. In fact, he was convinced that he could see you again the next holiday. 

Halloween night, George had plans, so Fred was in charge of closing up tonight. Looking at the empty bowl of sweets on the counter, Fred thought about you. You always remembered to fill it up, especially around Halloween.

The autumn wind was getting cold, and he pulled his coat tighter as he walked outside. The kids on the street were all dressed up, going from door to door trick-or-treating. Fred remembered how you two and George would always go trick-or-treating together on Halloween since you were kids. Even after you all grew up, you would still drag him to go with you. But now he was walking alone in his business suit, on his way home. This moment he felt as if the kid inside him has left with you.

When he got home, he turned on the TV and started switching channels absentmindedly. You should be there, suggesting to watch a horror movie, but then deciding on something family-friendly. You would always try to have a Halloween movie marathon but end up falling asleep, lying on his shoulder. He found it adorable, but he never told you that.

Fred sighed as he laid back on the couch. This was the first Halloween without you.

~

Christmas morning, Fred walked downstairs, noticing something was different in the air. The Burrow was quieter. Sure, most of his family were already up and were gathered around the Christmas tree, chatting and laughing. But you weren’t there.

You weren’t there, showing up at the Burrow way too early in the morning. You weren’t there knocking on his door and waking him up using a cheerful, sing-song voice. He would always groan and tell you to give him five more minutes. But this year, when he woke up to the mechanical sound of the alarm clock, he really missed your cheerful voice.

Fred walked downstairs with everyone wishing him a Merry Christmas, but his eyes were searching the crowd for a glimpse of you that was just impossible to be found. This was the first Christmas without you.

~

New Year’s Eve, Fred and George were at the local pub’s New Year countdown party, along with the other boys. Just like usual, the boys had too much drink and passed out in the pub.

When Fred was only half-awake, he heard your voice calling him, “Freddie! C’mon, let’s get you home!” A soft smile appeared on his lips. You were back! He knew you would be back for the new year. He knew you wouldn’t leave him for too long.

You were always there to pick him up and carry him home after New Year’s party. He was always amazed at how you managed to carry him as he was taller than you, but you were always there for him. He just felt so lucky now to have you in his life, and seeing you in front of him made him smile like an idiot.

You were frowning seeing him lying on the floor, but you soon gave in when you saw that smile. You chuckled and whispered, “Happy New Year, Freddie.” 

The soft smile stayed on Fred’s lips. He felt at home.

When Fred woke up again, he found himself lying on the floor of the pub. The pub was already empty. The boys were already gone. Someone must have picked them up, but there was no one for him. He finally began to realize that it was just a dream. You were still in America, and he was still a loser who’s lying alone on the cold floor on the first day of the new year. 

Fred managed to walk out of the pub. The freezing wind was slapping on his face, trying to sober him up. He walked past a coffee shop. That was your favorite. 

You were all he could think of now. Fred knew that you had a crush on him, but he always believed that it was just a stupid little childhood crush and it would fade as soon as you all grow up. He was just too familiar with you, and familiarity wasn’t what he thought he was looking for in romance.

But you were already in every part of his life. No matter where he goes or what he does, you were always there. But now you weren’t.

There was the first time Fred told a joke, and you weren’t the first to laugh. He loved the way you laugh, for it could always brighten up his whole day, but he never admitted it. 

There was the first time he was humming a song, and you weren’t there to sing along. He loved your voice, for it could always calm him down, but he wouldn’t tell you that.

There was the first time when he realized that he needed you in his life.

The first time when he realized that he loved you more than he thought he did.

It was like muscle memory for him to remember everything about you, but he wasn’t even aware of that, and you obviously didn’t know too. Instead of showing you how much he loved and appreciated you, he just took you for granted because he thought you would never leave. 

Fred dialed your number that night. He thought he might go crazy if he couldn’t hear your voice tonight. As he waited for you to pick up, he felt the inside of his stomach were all twisted together, but it was soon replaced by butterflies when he heard your voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N, it’s me, Fred,” he didn’t know why he stuttered, “S-so, I was wondering...do you know where is the photo of us at the station? It was your first year of school. Did you take it with you?”

“No, I gave it to George. Why?” He couldn’t tell your emotion through the phone. Were you annoyed? Or were you happy to hear his voice too?

“Oh, umm, nothing, just missing the old days.” 

“Oh, okay...Anything else?”

There were so many things that he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you that he’s sorry and he missed you so much, but you sounded impatient. So all he managed to say was, “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

There was a few seconds of silence; then he heard you reply, “Happy New Year, Fred.”

Hanging up the phone, Fred felt his heart sank. He hated how emotionless you sounded, and he knew he had to do something. Maybe he couldn’t convince you to come back to him, but at least he owed you an apology.

~

Valentine’s Day. Evening, you walked out of the building you worked in. It was on a wizarding street just like Diagon Alley, so it didn’t take you too long to adjust to the new environment. 

The shops on this street were all having Valentine’s specials, and it reminded you of the Valentine’s specials of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Fred always had the most interesting and romantic ideas-you shook your head. You promised yourself not to think about him anymore.

A shop at the corner captured your attention. You’ve never seen this shop before. You looked for the name of the shop and the sign above read “WWW’.

Just when you thought you were losing your mind and associating everything with Fred again, the shop owner walked out. 

Fred smiled when he saw you. The same beaming smile that had you head over heels for him for as long as you could remember. “Hi, I'm new here. Would you mind showing me around?”

~

A/N: Sorry if the ending feels a bit rushed! I felt like it made sense to end here so the reader could decide if she wants to forgive him or not. 

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[rouiyan]

𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌, <3 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

synopsis: in which the worst christmas ever takes a turn for the better (and it rhymes!)

✧ idol!lee jeno x (fem.) reader ✧ best friends to lovers

✧ genres : fluff →  ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ →  FLUFF ✧ word count : 2.8k ✧ disclaimers : none

✧ author’s note — an impulsively written fic, done in a single one-hour-long sitting, and therefore isn't structured very well and has two or three potential plot holes. was the og christmas special but then 'this shirt of his' decided it wanted to go from 300 words to >10k so there's that. merry early christmas !!

"oh dear, that was not a look," jeno hopes the sarcasm in his voice masks his fear. he's a second too slow when he pulls the photo away from your sight, you've already seen the garish fit, blue jeans with an odd cut and the equally blue long-sleeve paired with thick rimmed glasses and matted hair. haechan steals the photo from behind jeno's back and shoves it your way, a mischievous plot already forming in mind. to his delight, jeno's face grows in horror as he watches you grin excitedly at the picture in your hands. "aww, you were so awkward back then. this one's one of my favorites," jeno flushes deeply at your words, there is not a thing in him that can help it. unearthing the photo albums from their trainee days wasn't his idea. rather, it was yours, also making it so he couldn't help it.

"i think we're done for today," he hurriedly shuts the album in front of him without realizing you were still holding onto the photo. you look as if you were to complain and he's also a second away from opening it up again just to dissipate the frown on your face. instead, you say something a little more horrifying, "then can i keep this one? i like it-"

"no!" he retraces as fast as he'd exclaimed, "i mean- wait, why?"

renjun fakes vomits in the background as you reach up to pat down some of jeno's wild hairs. he's just as sick of this as haechan and the others. rolling his eyes, he watches the scene unfold before him like some monotonous kdrama, the male lead always ends up with the female lead anyways. hand back at your side, you let a giggle erupt from your bearings. jeno's face heats up a little more. "why are you so embarrassed, jen? it's not like i didn't know you back then."

the boy in front of you drags a hand across his neck in attempt to cool down the feverish feeling. "i- i know, it's just-" it's just i've liked you since back then. "i don't know," i've always known that i liked you. "it's nothing, really." what you think of me means the world to me.

jeno blinks once and you're one step closer to him. he debates never blinking again if it means never missing your actions. your hand is warm against his as you slip the picture into his palm, closing his fingers around it. jeno takes note of how your voice is also warm, "then keep it, i don't want it if you're not comfortable with me having it."

the picture lays on his bedside table as he stirs in the dark. the winter is cold and his blankets, though thick and abundant, do nothing to warm his heart, something he knows from experience only your presence can alleviate. 

jeno is more than eager to toss his blankets aside and go back to gaming but he remembers the text you'd sent after you'd gotten back to your place. something like sleep early <3 though he really only remembers the '<3' part for sure. funny enough, that's the one thing that keeps him up all night.

jeno counts one minute this time, only one minute after he'd pressed the 'post' button, until he sees your username and accompanying profile picture pop up in his notifications. the nct instagram account is for all the members' use but he knows that you only follow it to like his posts exclusively. it's totally not as if he'd checked each and every post to see which ones you liked. jeno beams and punches a subtle fist into the air under the counter. unluckily for him, haechan notices. "what, she liked your post again? you know, she liked mine too."

maybe it's actually a lucky happenstance that haechan had noticed. "what?! no, she didn't." jeno dives back into the depths of his phone and scrolls through to find his friend's christmas selfie. haechan only chuckles beside him and upon hearing this, jeno looks up with a slight twitch of his lip, "so you're kidding." taking his empty cereal bowl in both hands, haechan's smile only grows snarkier as he slips off the stool. he claps a hand onto jeno's shoulder, "chin up lover boy, we all know she's only got eyes for you."

jeno clips down a smile as he returns to his own cereal, the flakes now soggy and the milk now gray. he downs it all in three gulps, sets the bowl back on the counter, spoon clattering, and reverts his eyes back onto his phone just in time to see an incoming text from you lighting the lockscreen. merry christmas! i think i might have time to come over later today, like late late. ask the others if that's fine with them. he doesn't ask, he already knows it's fine when he replies not a second afterwards yeah sure, merry christmas to you too, he pauses, taking a breather before sending the next, extremely risky, text, see you later <3.

slamming his phone face down on the counter and jolting upright, the stool almost toppling over, he grabs the bowl with such force that has jaemin in the living room popping his head in to check if he's okay. evidently, he's not. jeno scrubs at the dishes with acute fervor in hopes to mask the embarrassment and oncoming wave of doubt that's sure to overcome him if he doesn't preoccupy his mind with other things. jaemin is just about screaming over the sound of the fifty or so dishes that have been left unwashed for weeks on end. "jeno! jeno, what are you doing?!"

the clanking of tableware ceases. jeno reroutes his mind to focus on tapping his toes as fast as he can as he veers in the direction of jaemin's voice, eyes frantic. the kitchen is silent, save for the gush of water from the sink behind him, though his voice is unnecessarily loud and unnaturally high when he speaks, "i'm washing the dishes."

"yes, i can see, but like- why are-"

he's is cut off by the sound of a ping from jeno's phone on the counter. jaemin is reaching over to check the notification for him when jeno's eyes widen even further and he yanks off the pink rubber dishwashing gloves with a resounding snap and dives for his phone before jaemin can even lay a finger on it. bewildered, jaemin gives a simple, "oh," in realization as he draws back.

you're gonna love my gift, jeno. i just know you will <3

and the dishes stay unwashed. at least they got a good rinse.

late, late turns out to be even later than precedented, for you at least, though you're sure that most the boys are still awake at 2:12 in the morning. it isn't christmas anymore but you lack the attentiveness to care in the state that you are in right now, pressing the buzzer just outside their door rather aggressively and panting in equal fashion. you slump into yourself as your mind glosses over the past day and how horridly it had panned out to be. frustration curls and lashes within your actions and you want nothing more than to just drop their gifts off and leave. 

crouching with both arms still planted taut on the bike, your frustrations seems to take on a path of their own, emitting echoing sobs from your being. the tears slide fast onto the floor beneath with nothing to obstruct their merry way. there, they accommodate each other to form a puddle of sorts, one that you stare intently at as it only seems to grow in size with every hiccup of a sob you give.

startled by the opening of the door in front of you, it's as if you've forgotten why you're here in the first place but upon seeing the boy at the door, your best friend who, by the look of it has been up playing games with heavy bags under his eyes, you don't bother to collect yourself or even conceal your tears. 

"y/n, why are you-" he stops, he can't help the laugh that so naturally comes to him. it really is only natural when the sight before him is so dismally absurd. you have indeed come bearing gifts. one of your arms, or the elbow of it, has a giant bag looped around it, the contents of a dozen or so wrapped oblongs threatening to overflow. both hands situated soundly on the giant bike before you, your whole configuration making it slightly difficult to fit comfortably in the narrow hallway. staring up at him, first confoundingly, you mull over the situation at hand yourself and, in the midst of the tears, you start to laugh as well.

you stand, stretching out the joints in your knees as you shove the bag into his arms and then almost run the bike into his balls, shaking your head in amusement and carelessness as he gives a yelp and a jump of surprise. he takes the bag in his arms and moves to let you in, though his eyes never part from you. simply, there is much that he wants to ask but he doesn't until you are safely put upon his bed and he is safely knelt before you, hands in your lap and also clasped in your hold.

"wanna tell me?" jeno's voice is soft, and comes in waves that both surge and surf your emotions. a lopsided and unmeaning smile graces the left corner of your lips, "tell you what, exactly?"

"the bike, for starters," he leaves a pause for you to chuckle, then goes on, "the time, why you were crying in the hallway...should i go on?" you fiddle with his fingers, his own tracing across your knuckles. the smile your expression stretches a little wider and a little more forlorn. "the bike...you said the chain or something broke on yours-"

"i've could just went to go get it fixed, y/n."

"i know, i know but then there was that one day where you were going on about some bike that you wanted to try out and i kinda just committed it to memory and bought it."

"i- i'm- but that was-" he's having difficulty computing the necessary words to encompass his enthrallment, "that was like four months ago."

"yeah and i was going to go pick it up after work today except…" you lick your lips to suppress another laugh. what had you so troubled just a few minutes ago now seems like a distant memory, "except i got fired," jeno's mouth hangs open, "so i went home first to cry and then i got to the shop like three minutes before it closed and then got into an argument with an employee there and then went home to cry again and then fell asleep and then woke up and remembered i had to get it to you before the end of the day but it was already almost two in the morning so i just said, 'fuck it, imma just go and see what happens,' and, well, here i am." you let it all simmer before closing it up, "that pretty much sums it all up for you, huh."

jeno's lips are slow to crease upwards as he processes all the information. he takes his hands from yours, also slowly, and instead places them on either side of your head. you beam down at him, cheeks flaming and lifting into a mirroring, and this time genuine, smile. he gives your head a little shake back and forth, in disbelief and incredulity all at once, "all that on christmas day?"

the way he pampers you never fails to get your heart pumping and adrenaline running tens of thousands of miles per hour. a smile so wide, your teeth even make an appearance, "all that on christmas day."

"well," both his hands are now on both your knees. he looks up at you with pondering eyes and in his room, only lit by the standing lamp in the corner, simply the sight of him is enough to take your breath away. jeno's thumbs run up and down the beginnings of your shins when his lips part with realization and you follow his gaze to the nightstand where, under his phone and a few other discarded items, lies the picture you'd only been able to catch a glimpse of the other day, yesterday. he stares at it for a little before bringing it to your lap to stare at it a little more. then, he turns it over to you, "will it make you feel better if i give you this?"

taking it from him, jeno has no idea how your smile could get any wider, any prettier, but it does. both his hands are back on both your knees, kneading soft circles into the skin. he wishes you weren't wearing a skirt in such cold weather, though either way you look just as mesmerizing to him. the smallest of a chuckle topples past your lips, your pretty lips, and you look from the picture to him with your eyes, your loving eyes. "i mean," you take another glance at it, "how could it not? you were so cute back then."

"you think so?" is what comes out of his mouth but truthfully, jeno has no idea what he's doing when he gets up upon both knees, now just a little under eye level with you. he has no idea what specific thoughts are spurring him on and he has not the slightest inclination of where this sudden courage is coming from. when lee jeno brings your forehead to his own, with a hand to the back of your neck, he is numbed to the mind and sustained solely on the thrum of his gut. driven by intuition, he doesn't render the flaming of your cheeks odd, nor does he take into account the second-long glance you give to his lips, the same lips that brush the bridge of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the heights of your brow, before meeting your philtrums and then, ever-so-carefully, the pinks of your lips.

jeno is intoxicated by how you seem to move in tune with every string of his pent up desires. he doesn't give a second thought as to why, or even how, it happens; he just knows that it's because it's you, that if anyone else were to kiss him in the same way you were doing now, he'd be missing out on the very feeling that renders him speechless, dumbfounded, bewildered, awestruck, and lovestruck all at once. pulling back just a bit, your fingers graze over the line of his jaw as you mumble a soft, "merry christmas," into his lips. jeno paces himself to ensure he doesn't stumble over his words, "be mine?"

the second kiss answers the question he's been keeping to himself since he was fifteen.

you're awake when he falls asleep, a stupid smile still plastered on that face of his and you would've had enough mind to tease him about it later, were the same smile not on your own face. you're still awake about half an hour later when jeno stirs in his sleep, though instead of moving away from you, he only holds you tighter. however, you're asleep when he awakens a few hours later, a hand coming up to groggily rub at an eye as he reaches out for his phone only to realize that he doesn't need to check his messages. how could you have texted him when you're right there, in his arms?

he only checks his messages in the hour after you leave, and even then in his manager's car on the way to some filming site, jeno blushes, madly.

i forgot to say yes <3

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

✧ end note — ok i KNOW the fic kinda goes 📉📉 but i only really planned for the first two scenes and was like...now what — and just wrote whatever came to mind afterwards. i hope it's not too disappointing for my first off hiatus fic but whatever mans, i'm over it! anyways, i hope you still enjoyed some parts of it and i'll have you know, i'm very glad to be back. (WILL I STOP IT WITH THE BSF2L FICS? WILL I??), rouiyan.

[bentforkent]

merry christmas, spencer reid

derek morgan x spencer reid x penelope garcia

a/n: this is a spencer-centric morceid fic. i find spencer the easiest to write, so i enjoy framing these moments through a spencer-lens...hope that's okay with y'all :)

content warnings: none! this is straight FLUFF, love, and banter baby!

word count: 2087

in which derek, penelope, and spencer are at the airport, heading to chicago for christmas

- - - - - 

Arrive at Airport - 6:47 AM

It’s cold. Spencer Reid is certifiably a genius, and all he knows at this moment in time is that it is cold. A fog has settled over the airport drop-off zone, wet and enveloping. Spencer thinks it might be melancholy if not for the sun just barely peeking over the horizon and Penelope’s bright pink coat bouncing around in front of him. She’s wearing enough layers that it’s difficult for her arms to move, leaving Derek and Spencer to pull their luggage from the trunk of the Uber. To compensate for her lack of involvement, she flits around the pair, pressing gentle kisses to their cheeks.

She’s moving a little too much for Spencer’s liking. It’s still early and he’s feeling quite overwhelmed. Late minute packing, bickering, and a sugary coffee before 6 in the morning will do that to you. But he loves Penelope--oh, he loves her so much--and he’s been working through this type of sensory overload response in therapy, so instead of snapping at her to calm down and please stop moving, he reaches for her hand with the one that isn’t white-knuckling a heavy suitcase.

Penelope, ever intuitive, ever loving, laces her fingers with his spindly ones and slows to a still next to him. “Oops. Sorry, lovebug,” she says, and Spencer, relaxing, kisses her flushed cheek.

“Are you excited?” She asks him.

Spencer nods rapidly, curls bouncing. It’s Spencer’s first Christmas spent with Derek and Penelope, his first time going to Chicago with them, and his first time meeting Derek’s family. He’s nervous, but so excited. Spencer watches as Derek lifts the luggage onto the curb, and finds himself wishing it wasn’t so damn cold so he could watch Derek’s muscles flex in the absence of a heavy jacket. Penelope follows Spencer’s gaze and squeezes his hand as if she can hear his thoughts and agrees.

As if on cue, Derek thanks the Uber driver and turns to them.

“You guys are no help,” he remarks, gesturing to the disparity between the amount of luggage each of them were carrying. Penelope pulls her empty, suitcase-free hands from Spencer’s, hiding them behind her back to playfully feign innocence. Spencer’s heart swells as he watches Derek’s smile widen and overtake his whole face.

“Spence, you want me to take that bag?” He asks. He reaches for it, brushing against Spencer’s exposed wrist tenderly.

Spencer beams at him. “No, you’ve got all of them. I can handle this one.”

As they bustle into the airport, the cold air feels a bit warmer.

Check Bags - 7:12 AM

“Babygirl, I hope you checked that bag’s weight twice, because I am not paying extra for you going over the 50 pound limit again,” Derek says, looking down at Penelope where she’s perched on the edge of her suitcase. The line they’re in to check their bags hasn’t moved in a while, and once Penelope had discovered that her suitcase was sturdy enough to hold a human body despite the wonky wheel she’d broken trekking through this very airport last Christmas, she’d been sitting on it ever since. She offered Spencer a spot next to her, of course, but he was enjoying standing with Derek. Every so often, he reaches over and pinches Spencer’s hip playfully, kissing his cheek when Spencer squirms in response. So yeah, Spencer is enjoying it.

Penelope kicks her leg out and hooks it around Derek’s. “Oh, you love me, you’ll pay for it,” she replies, with a toothy smile up at him.

“Did you know that there was once a tiny Samoan airline that actually determined ticket prices based on the weight of their passengers, instead of weighing their luggage? Each kilogram someone weighed was 93 cents onto the price of their ticket,” Spencer says.

“How did that work out for them?” Derek asks intently, enthralled by Spencer’s words. 

“They closed. A lot of people were really upset by the weight thing, but because it made children’s tickets cheaper than the average ticket, a lot of traveling families actually preferred that method.” 

Penelope hums, standing from her seat and wrapping her arms tightly around Derek’s waist. On instinct, he rests his hand on her lower back protectively, holding her close and pressing kisses to her forehead in quick succession.  

“Probably would be cheaper for us to fly that way,” Derek says. “Penelope’s earrings alone are about 49 pounds in there.” He gestures to her floral luggage. 

Penelope turns her head to make mock-serious, unwavering eye-contact with Spencer. “He’s mean to me,” she says matter-of-factly. 

Derek shakes his head with a chuckle. Spencer notes that his smile hasn’t left his face. He hadn’t thought it possible for Derek to be any happier, but apparently Penelope makes it so. Spencer knows the feeling. 

“I love you, Penelope, you know that,” Derek replies, kissing her chastely.  

(Penelope’s suitcase weighs at 27 pounds.) 

Go Through Security - 7:44 AM

“Hey, those are my socks!” Spencer says, looking pointedly at Penelope’s feet.

The socks are yellow, ankle-high, and covered in rainbows. They’re cute, and Spencer knows they’re cute because they’re his, a pair he’d picked up at a random general store in Des Plaines, Illinois, while on a case. He remembers sending Penelope a photo of them that night, just his socked feet next to Derek’s where they laid on the hotel’s puffy white comforter. She answered with a smattering of emojis, saying she was “So jealous!” Spencer had thought she was referring to the quality time with Derek, but it’s apparent now as she puts her shoes into a gray bin, sliding them onto the conveyor belt, that she’d really been jealous of the socks all along.  

“If they’re your socks, why am I wearing them, loverboy?” Penelope counters in jest, back turned to both Spencer and Derek as they follow behind her through the security checkpoint. She flashes a genuine smile to the stoic TSA agent ushering her through as if to say, “Boys, right?”  

Instead of arguing, Spencer turns to Derek. “Those are my socks.”

The TSA agent, still sporting a neutral expression and seemingly unimpressed by Penelope’s charms, calls for Spencer to move forward. He’s trying to keep up, obviously, but this morning he double-knotted his shoelaces as always and has slight trouble getting them off quickly. Once he manages to get all of his belongings--belt, shoes, coat, and hat included--into the tray, he stumbles into the security scanner.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. The TSA agent gives him a half-smile in return, and Spencer takes the emotion and holds it close to his chest.

It’s only when Spencer and Derek finally meet Penelope at the bench she’s at, lacing up her boots, that Spencer looks down at Derek’s feet.

“Der,” he says.

Distracted with putting his belt back on, Derek replies absentmindedly. “Yes, baby?”

“Those are my socks.”

Derek looks down at his feet. Two bright pink kittens smile up at him.

Arrive at Gate - 8:17 AM

Penelope passes the sweet-smelling hand sanitizer towards Spencer as they sink into the grimy, uncomfortable seats at the gate, dropping their carry-on bags.

“‘Frosted Snowball,’” Spencer reads aloud from the glittery blue bottle. He pours a generous amount into his hand, watching earnestly as the glitter spreads across his hands and in between his fingers. Something about disinfected hands and shimmer makes him feel as awake as he’s felt all morning, although he secretly hopes Penelope will propose going to get a coffee to help him maintain the feeling.

“Isn’t it cute? I got a few, there’s one in your stocking at home. I couldn’t leave it, look at the little polar bear!”

Spencer passes the sanitizer to Derek, who inspects it with a raised eyebrow.

“Why couldn’t they just call it ‘Coconut,’ if that’s the scent?” He asks, squirting a bit of the gel into his hand. “Makin’ me squint and read the fine print to find out what it actually smells like.”

Penelope presses her lips into a faux pout. “Because ‘Frosted Snowball’ is a cuter name than--” She lowers her voice to mock Derek’s--”’Coconut.’ And, it’s festive! Winter themed!”

Spencer pipes up. “Looks like someone isn’t getting ‘Frosted Snowball’ in their stocking this year.” He grins at Derek.

With a shrug and a smile, Derek slings his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and pulls him to his chest, pressing his lips to Spencer’s temple and letting them linger there. Locking eyes with Penelope, Derek smiles. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Penelope says, patting Spencer’s thigh as she leaves his side to sit next to Derek.

The airport bustles around them, but they stop and sit, a peaceful bubble of limbs and public displays of affection and glitter and coconut scent.

Board Flight - 9:07AM

“Are you feeling okay?” Derek whispers into Spencer’s ear, letting his lips brush against it. Spencer leans into his touch. Penelope is tucked into her knitting already, and she’s pulled out an extra set of needles and yarn for Spencer.

Spencer nods.

“You’ve been quiet since we boarded,” Derek observes.

Spencer speaks quietly. “I’m just nervous, I guess. I read an article in Psychology Today about how your partner’s parent’s approval can affect how much love and affection you feel in a relationship, and I just don’t want to mess up.”

There’s a pregnant pause. Derek wants to quell Spencer’s fears and reassure him that everything is okay, but then Spencer is talking again, equally as hushed, but more panicked.

“I’m also nervous because, I know your mom and sisters love Penelope, and I’m...I’m new.”

Derek frowns. His palm finds a spot on Spencer’s chest, right over his heart. Derek knows the weight and warmth of his hand will stabilize Spencer, regulating his breathing, and preventing any anxiety attacks from blooming. Grateful for the touch, Spencer continues.

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that we’re together and that it’s weird that I’m a man and that I’m awkward and gangly and I’m not good with social situations and sometimes I say the wrong things at the wrong time and...yeah.” He stops himself from continuing, noticing how he’s working himself into a frenzy. Derek smiles a tiny half-smile, and Spencer returns it in acknowledgement.  

Penelope, having overheard bits of the conversation, pulls Spencer’s right hand to her lips and kisses his knuckles softly as a reminder of her presence, then turns back to the new scarf she’s making. It’s in a deep mauve, close to Spencer’s favorite shade of purple. (She hasn’t decided if she’s going to give it to him yet. On one hand, it is his color, and he wears scarves more than she does; but on the other hand, because it’s his color, whenever she wears it it would be a reminder of him. She’s torn. They’ll end up sharing it.)

Derek tucks a piece of Spencer’s hair back behind his ear.

“Let me ask you something,” he says. “Do you think it’s weird that we’re together?”

“No,” Spencer replies.

“Do you think it’s weird that you’re a man?”

“No.”

“So,” Derek shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If my family feels some type of way about it, that’s their own issue to get over.”

Spencer nods, letting his eyes search Derek’s.

Derek kisses his forehead. “But, I would never intentionally put you into a situation where I know you would be uncomfortable or unwelcome. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

Spencer nods, again. He knows. Derek always protects him. He taps Derek’s hand where it lies on his sternum as an example.

Derek nods, then plants a firm, wet kiss on Spencer’s pouted lips. “So trust me when I tell you it’s all going to be okay, okay?”

“Okay,” Spencer says, and he means it.

Derek pats his chest lovingly and moves to put in his headphones. He’ll catch up on his sport podcasts, but in approximately 23 minutes, he’ll feel bad about having headphones in and offer one to Spencer. Spencer eagerly awaits this interaction, although he’ll decline, waiting for Penelope to get bored with her knitting. Then, the two of them will watch some campy 90’s movie together, and share the peanut M&Ms he snuck into his coat pocket to surprise her with.

But for now, Spencer takes Penelope’s extra set of knitting needles, laying them across his lap. 

Content in where he’s at, he smiles and folds up his itinerary.

[mandoalorian]

Praying ...

🕯 🕯

🕯Max and her having 🕯

🕯 a baby and adopting 🕯

🕯Maxine on next year's 🕯

🕯 Christmas . 🕯

🕯 🕯

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

To Build A Home [Maxwell Lord x Reader]

READ PART ONE HERE.

Rating: PG

Warnings: mention of orphanage, adoption, birth.

Word count: 2.7k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @honeymandos @castiel-barnes

Masterlist (PS— if you like reading Maxwell as a father as much as I like writing him, I also have a cute one shot where he has a daughter AND a cat called ‘Soulmates’. You can read that here.)

Maxwell Lord didn't know what true love was until he held his newborn daughter in his arms. The delivery was peaceful and the child was born awake, her big brown eyes sparkling as she let out the gentlest of cries. "It's a girl," Maxwell announced, his voice croaking as the midwife took your daughter to clean her up.

"A girl?" you sniffed. "Just like you wanted." You beamed, leaning over and hugging Maxwell.

Maxwell let out a choked sob. "She's beautiful," he whispered and your heart melted in your chest. "She looks like you. Not much hair and a little red, and she has my eyes but… she really does look like you," you had never heard him speak with so much joy and delight. "We have ourselves a daughter." he confirmed and you giggled happily as he pressed a comforting kiss into your cheek and smoothed out your messy hair.

Having a newborn baby was not easy. You didn't expect it to be easy, but even with the many house staff coming and going… the butler's and the maids and the nanny’s… it was still a struggle. She would wake up at the most ungodly hour demanding to be fed. She would throw up in the morning all over Maxwell's thousand dollar suits right before he had to head to work. Maxwell swore the diaper changing was the worst, but he loved her unconditionally and he wouldn't change a thing.

In fact, he wanted more. Maxwell Lord always wanted more— no matter what it was. But never did he think he'd want more children, that's for sure. You had just put little Isabella down in her cot, after nursing her and praying she'd actually settle this bedtime. You got undressed, slid into your silk pajama set and swaddled yourself with plenty of blankets in your king sized bed, next to Maxwell. The nights were getting colder, but the warmth of laying next to your fiancée provided you with just enough comfort.

You tore the office paperwork from Maxwell's hands and set it on the nightstand before taking off his reading glasses and kissing him slowly. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?" you asked, in between breathy kisses.

Maxwell nodded. "I know I want this… it's just, I want what's best for her too." Maxwell admitted sheepishly. You rubbed your nose against his and laid your head in his lap. "Isabella was born only three months ago… do you think we're ready for another?"

You smiled. "We're an unstoppable team Maxwell, I know we're ready. It's not going to be easy, but we can do it. I know we can. And I love you."

"I love you too," he sighed, pressing his lips into yours and dropping his hand to caress your body over your pyjamas. You giggled into the kiss as he touched you and moved your head away from his.

"You still got the Santa costume?" you asked, smacking your lips together.

"Mm," Maxwell mumbled, leaning in to kiss you again but you pulled away. "What? It's in the back of the closet. Let me kiss you."

You laughed and nodded, leaning back in to kiss him. He pushed you into the bed sheet and tugged at your silk shorts as he hovered over your body.

Like every morning, you awoke at dawn to Isabella crying for her breakfast. Nursing her, you gave her a bottle of milk and greeted the nanny. "Hey, you sure you don't mind watching Isabella while Maxwell and I head out?" you asked with a pleasant smile.

"Of course not, she's a little darling. It would be a pleasure." the nanny smiled as you passed Isabella over.

"Daddy's little darling." Maxwell said, appearing in the kitchen in his Santa costume… minus the hat and beard. You padded over to him and put your hand on his tummy, a blush creeping over his cheeks as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

"You know, this is kinda sexy." you smirked, pressing down the red fabric and making sure he looked neat and tidy. Maxwell rolled his eyes.

"Go get your elf dress on. We're going to be late." he told you, flicking his wrist out and checking the time on his gold Cartier watch. You nodded, heading back into your bedroom. Maxwell turned to the nanny. "You feed her again at 12, and then at 2, but we should be back by then. She likes to play with her felt books and rattle… they’re in the-"

"Nursery," the nanny finished Maxwell's sentence with a gentle smile. "I know Mr Lord, please don't worry about little Isabella. She's in safe hands, I promise."

Maxwell hesitated but looked down at his daughter who was already looking up at him, her big brown eyes sparkling. She reached out to her father, making little grabby fists as a smile appeared on her face. "I love you princess." he mumbled, kissing his daughter on the forehead.

Maxwell set the sack of presents down under the orphanages Christmas tree, the children clambering and squealing excitedly as they raced over to pick out what Santa (or you and Max) had got for them. "Batman!" A young boy yelled, jumping up with a plastic Batman figurine and showing it off excitedly.

"Really?" Maxwell sighed, leaning into you. "A Batman toy?" he tutted and you laughed, smacking him playfully in his broad chest.

"Princess Jasmine!" A younger girl exclaimed, holding a turquoise Princess Jasmine costume to her body and showing it off in front of the other girls. "I'm going to wear this everyday."

You went to whisper something into Maxwell's ear but noticed that he must've sauntered off somewhere. Your gaze flicked around the living room as you tried to search for him but he was truly nowhere in sight. "Where did Santa Claus go?" a little girl asked, pulling on the hem of your green elf dress.

"I'm not sure," you told her, biting your lip. "Let me go have a look. Wait here, okay?" you told her and she nodded, turning back to open some more presents.

"Where is Maxine?" Maxwell asked the head social worker at the orphanage. "She wasn't with the other kids."

The social worker, Stacey, frowned. "She's in her bedroom. It's been a tough Christmas for her." Stacey explained.

"Can I ask why?" Maxwell prodded curiously.

"We thought she had found her forever home. A family had taken a liking to her but, just the day before Christmas Eve they decided they didn't want her anymore. It came completely out of the blue. She's devastated."

Maxwell's heart sank in his chest at the revelation. "You don't know why they changed their mind?" he asked sadly.

"I'm afraid not," Stacey shook her head. "Maxine is uhm… quite a lot to handle."

"May I go see her?" Maxwell asked.

"Sure, her bedroom is three doors down and to the left." Stacey informed him, pointing her finger down the corridor.

Maxwell sauntered off, finding the room and giving it a brief knock on the door. "Go away!" he heard a little voice cry out. Maxwell couldn't help but smile when he heard Maxine's familiar voice. He didn't think he would have missed her this much, but he did. Maxwell hesitantly opened the door.

"It's Santa!" he called out, grinning when Maxine turned around with teary eyes.

"S-Santa?" Maxine whispered timidly. "You came back?"

Maxwell sat on the edge of Maxine's bed and Maxine crawled over to him. Maxwell pulled the little girl onto his lap. "I promised didn't I?" he smiled.

"You did." Maxine returned the smile. She had stopped crying for the first time in days.

"Have you been a good girl this year?" Maxwell asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Maxine nodded excitedly.

"Very good!" Maxine squealed, nuzzling her cheek into Max’s chest. Maxwell felt his heart grow warm at the affection from the child he had grown to care so much about.

"Your friends are out in the living room opening their presents… don't you want to go see them?" Maxwell quizzed, nudging her slightly. Maxine shook her head 'no'. "Well, I know you've been a good girl. That's why there's someone here to see you. Could you give me five minutes?" Maxwell asked, a huge grin painted on his face? Maxine nodded, shuffling off his lap and picking up her teddy, hugging it tight to her chest.

Maxwell left her bedroom, walking down the corridor and pulling off his Santa hat and faux beard before bumping into you. "Hey, I was looking for you everywhere!" you hissed. "Put your hat and beard back on before a kid sees!" you looked around anxiously in hope that nobody was around.

"I spoke to Maxine." Maxwell smiled, tears pooling in his eyes. Your face softened.

"Oh," you were speechless. "And?"

"Get out of your elf dress and meet me by the main entrance. I'm going to speak to Stacey and have her draft the adoption papers for us to sign." Maxwell said, planting a kiss on your cheek. You choked back a sob and hugged your fiancée tight.

"We're getting another daughter?" you asked, the news finally settling in.

"Yeah, we're getting another daughter." Maxwell confirmed, unable to contain his excitement. "Okay, you have five minutes! Quick!" He ushered you back down the hallway and into the living room.

"Um, guys!" you called, the little bell on your elf hat jingling as you tried to get the attention of all the kids. "Guys! Father Christmas has had to leave to go see some more children, but he wishes you all the merriest Christmas and the happiest new year. And he told me to tell you that you all better be good, and he'll come again next year." you said with a cheery smile and the children horray’d.

"What do you say to the elf?" a member of staff encouraged.

"Thank you Mrs Elf." The children all said in unison before turning back to their presents.

You smiled, nodding in contentment before racing out of the living room and outside. You pulled out a plain woollen dress and some tights from the back of the car and quickly changed out of your elf dress, not forgetting to reapply your lipstick and fasten the laces of your winter boots. Deciding you looked like you were back to your usual self, you re-entered the orphanage. A few of the children gave you a confused stare, but it was short lived.

"You're… you're…" it was the same boy from last year, who had shoved the tabloid in your face. You giggled, sinking down to his level.

"Shhh." you smiled, placing a finger over your lips. "What's your name?" you asked.

"Eric." he said excitedly. "I've seen you on the television… you're like. Famous."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Eric is such a lovely name. Like a prince. Have you seen my husband? He's supposed to be here." you asked Eric, who's jaw dropped.

"M-Maxwell Lord the fourth is- is here?" Eric was starstruck. "Wait, I'm not even wearing my best clothes. You know I study business in school? It's my favourite subject. And I- I really look up to your husband, I- I watch all his infomercials. I…"

You placed a hand on Eric's shoulder. "You study business?" you raised an eyebrow. "What do you want to do when you grow up?"

"I want my own company." Eric grinned excitedly.

"You do?" you gasped. "You know, it's hard work. You think you could handle it?"

Eric nodded furiously. "I know I could."

"Never stop believing." you told him, before raising back to his feet.

"Darling?" you heard Maxwell call. You smiled when you saw that your fiancée was back to wearing one of his high end business suits with the floral print tie and matching pocket square, his Armani heels clicking against the floor and his sunglasses perched on the curve of his nose.

"Oh! Max!" you gasped. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. This is Eric. His favourite subject in school is business and he wants to have his own company when he's older."

Maxwell turned to face Eric, reaching out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you buddy." Maxwell charmed, taking off his sunglasses and clipping them to his shirt. "It's a pleasure."

Eric was speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Uh… Eric is a big fan." you explained to Maxwell.

"I've always wanted to meet you." Eric blushed, enamoured to be standing before his idol.

"Eric, how old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?" Maxwell asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"Fourteen." Eric smiled nervously.

"Black Gold Cooperative offer an apprentice scheme for kids like yourself who have an interest in one day building their own business. It's very competitive but… I'd love to offer you a position during the summer."

"M-me?" Eric stabbed a finger into his own chest, his eyes wide and teary.

"Come on buddy, don't let me down. I'd love to have you work with me on some projects. I bet you have some brilliant ideas." Maxwell gave Eric his iconic television smile as he charmed the young boy.

"I would be honoured." Eric beamed and Maxwell leaned in to give him a hug.

"That's great." Maxwell laughed, patting Eric on the back and standing back up.

"Mr Lord? I- I also have an interest in geology. Could I show you my rock collection?" Eric asked nervously, fumbling with his thumbs.

"You know Eric, I have my own rock collection myself. But I am here on business at the moment. Eric, I'd love to meet with you sometime during the new year and we could have a chat. Is that okay?" Maxwell asked and Eric nodded happily. "Brilliant, have a great Christmas." Maxwell wished before heading down the corridor and on his way to Maxine's room.

You smiled at a still starstruck Eric. "Merry Christmas." you whispered and he looked at you with the biggest heart eyes.

You followed Maxwell to Maxine's room and entered behind him. "Hello." Maxwell said timidly. Maxine may have met Santa plenty of times, but she had never met Maxwell and he wasn't sure how she'd react. Maxine furrowed her eyebrows, glancing between you both.

"You look like a princess." Maxine gasped, sliding off her bed and walking towards you with huge, glistening eyes.

"No, you look like a princess." you told Maxine who smiled happily. She turned to Maxwell.

"I recognise you." she said bluntly, tapping her finger on her chin as she pondered.

"Uh, do you watch television?" Maxwell asked curiously.

"No." Maxine replied. "I recognise your eyes."

You gasped, realising she must've recognised Maxwell from when he was Santa and made an attempt to divert her attention. You introduced yourself to the little girl. "Me and my husband have been keeping a close eye on you for about a year now," you revealed. "We'd like to adopt you, Maxine. If that's something you wanted. I know it's out of the blue but-"

"Do you have a cat?" Maxine squealed.

"N-no?" you replied.

"You want a cat?" Maxwell asked, kneeling down to face the little girl who he had become so acquainted with and taking her hands. "We can get a cat."

Maxine burst into tears. "I thought I would never find my forever home. Please, promise me you won't ever ever leave me."

Maxwell Lord's father had left when he was 16 and he lived with an absent and abusive mother throughout his entire adolescence. He knew how it felt to be alone, unwanted. He knew better than most people would ever even believe. He pulled Maxine into his chest, who was now sobbing hysterically, dampening his suit. Maxwell shed a tear himself.

"You are my daughter and I love you," he whispered into her hair. "Let us give you a home."

[her-world-on-fire]

"Did you just kiss me?" {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,583

A/N: Vaisey will be reader's ex-boyfriend.

Prompts: 12a. "it was open and i read it."  10f. "Did you just kiss me?"

hii! if u are taking requests, could i get angst #12 from the 150 prompt list with draco x pureblood!reader? where she broke up w her boyfriend bc he cheated but she's forced by her parents to attend his party on Christmas (all pureblood families were invited). draco is there and comforts her but her ex approaches them and fluff #10 occurs? sorry if it's too specific🥺

"You're going and that's final."

I looked over the protective cover staring back at me. I ran my hands through my hair and groaned in frustration. This was the last place I wanted to be. He was going to be there without a doubt. My parents were forcing me to attend a Christmas party, all the pure-blood Slytherin’s were to be in attendance. No exceptions. For weeks I tried to reason with her, but she would not have it.

All it took was one look from him and I was right back where I started. I spent weeks avoiding him as best as I could. Almost every corner I turned, he was there. We shared the same classes and walked the same hallways. Even harder were all the whispers that followed.

"Poor thing."

"What happened?"

"I heard he cheated with Pansy Parkinson!"

I was just leaving the library. I had intended to study for a couple more hours but as I stared at the pages, nothing made sense anymore. The lines on the page didn't look like words anymore. I returned the books before putting my book bag over my shoulder. I sighed as I got up from my chair, trying to adjust after sitting for so long.

As I reached for the door I ran into Terrence Higgs. He almost blocked the door, preventing me from getting out. He was Vaisey's best friend, the two of them grew close being on the qudditch team. "Fancy meeting you here." I spent every Wednesday in the library, and I had not seen him once. He laughed almost nervously, "Where are you off to?"

Immediately I knew something was going on. Terrence almost never made conversation with me. I had overheard that he wasn't overly fond of me. He only spoke to me if he had to, or if I asked him a direct question. I moved to the door once more, "I was just about to head back to my dorm." He stepped in front of the door, "You know I was hoping you could actually help me."

I narrowed my eyes, "You want me to help you?" He nodded unconvincingly. "With what?" I watched as he looked around and stuttered, "With um," He pointed to the book under my arm. "Potions."

"Right." I stepped away from him and left the library. I made my way to the dorms. I planned to go to mine but I figured I would ask Vaisey if there was something wrong with Terrence. As I walked up the steps to his dormitory, I heard a familiar giggle. Pansy Parkinson's laugh was coming from his room. I tried to come up with possible reasons. Maybe they were studying. Pansy Parkinson was in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. There was nothing to worry about.

I reached for the door, and the giggles stopped. I opened the door and found her under Vaisey. He looked up, his head moved away from her neck. His shirt was unbuttoned, I didn't say anything. I closed the door and made my way down the stairs. I heard the door slam behind me. "Y/N." I kept walking, there was nothing he could say that could possibly justify what I saw. "Wait!"

I stopped, and turned to look at him. He has hastily tried to button his shirt. He had missed a button, making it uneven. I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears in. "How long?"

"It's not-"

I didn't want to argue, and he wasn't going to give me answers. He reached for my arm, but I pulled away. I kept walking. No one else was in the common room, but somehow in a matter of hours, everyone knew.

I was dreading the party. For the first time in two years, I was going without him. I didn't tell my parents what happened, but they pieced together that we weren't together anymore. I looked back at the protective covering, and unzipped it slowly. Velvet. Jade green.

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

I arrived to the party a few hours late. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. I approached my mother. She was speaking to the host. I greeted them both and then went to the kitchen. Most were gathered in the living room beside the fire. I had forgotten how lonely these functions were. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anyone I knew.  No luck. I poured myself a drink to pass the time. I looked at the clock. 9 pm, another 2 hours and I was clear to leave.

I heard the clink of glasses, the host was going to make an announcement. I rounded the corner and stood by the living room. Everyone gathered in the living room. I started to feel uneasy, he was here. I tried to keep my eyes fixated on the floor. I gently stirred the drink in my hand, keeping my eyes on the liquid inside.

"No. I am not going to tell you again Draco."

I heard harsh whispers beside me. He scoffed, and his mother joined the group in the living room. He stayed by the kitchen, leaning against the marble countertops. I acted like I didn't hear the exchange. Draco's body language said everything. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face had a scowl on it. Odds were he was forced to be here too. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get the younger generation together in hopes of preserving the pure-blood line. That's what all these gatherings were for. It also gave the hosts a chance to show off their elegant mansions. The rich loved to boast, they loved the competition.

We had attended the same gatherings for as long as we could remember. We shared the same classes, and were even in the same friend group. Draco was the seeker for the qudditch team. We were well acquainted. We just hadn’t spent much time together since we were both preoccupied.

The host was making the traditional announcements. Thank you for being here, and so on.  I sighed and looked at the clock again. It had only been 5 minutes since I last checked. Draco chuckled to himself, "I know the feeling." He looked over, "You mind?" I shook my head and he came and stood beside me. He was dressed in an all black suit. He had gold cuff links and black dress shoes. His fingers had several expensive rings wrapped around them. "These are terribly dull." I remarked, and he nodded in understanding.

Even though neither of us mentioned it, we were sharing the same thought. I'm sorry this happened to you. I looked up, the host was still going on with her announcements. I couldn't help myself, my eyes scanned the room. I inhaled deeply as my eyes caught him. Draco followed my gaze. I quickly looked down and took another sip of my drink. I heard him shuffle beside me. He pulled out a small silver flask. His eyes invited me in. I smiled and brought my cup forward. I watched as he poured from the flask. "Thank you." I said gratefully, I couldn't imagine how I was going to get through the rest of the night.

I took another sip. "Would you like some company for the night?" I asked, normally I wouldn't be so forward. It didn't hurt to ask. He chuckled, as he slipped the silver flask back into his suit pocket. "I wouldn't mind it."

Soon the host dispersed the group and they all moved back to their groups. Draco and I settled in the kitchen. We sat on the chairs by the counters. We talked for the rest of the night, helping the time pass much faster.

"Crabbe didn't say much after that." He said pleased with himself. We both laughed, even gaining some attention from those passing by. Soon after Draco looked down at his watch, "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He got up and disappeared into the living room. Spending time with him made me feel normal again.

I had other friends but they had been walking on eggshells. They weren't sure how to approach me. They treated me like I was fragile, and granted I was. But it was nice to just forget about everything, even of it was for just an hour or two. It was almost midnight by now and the party was still humming vibrantly. I heard footsteps approach, I was expecting to see Draco.

Instead, it was Vaisey. I got up from my chair, I was having a good night. I was not going to let him ruin it. "Just wait." He held out his left arm in front of him. "I'm not going to try anything I just wanted to give you this."

"No. No more gifts no more letters, please. I just want to move on."

"This one is different. Just take it, and I won't bother you anymore. You can decide if you want to talk to me, on your own terms. Just please." He stepped forward slowly and brought a gift forward. It had a silver wrapping paper, and a sterling green bow. I took it and he backed away slowly. "I'll give you some time to think." He retreated back into the living room. I sighed and placed the gift on the table.

I stared at it, the smart part of me said to just throw it away. Don't open it, just get rid of it. But part of me wanted to know. Why was this so special he had to hand deliver it? Curiosity got the best of me. I carefully pulled back the green bow, and the silver box came undone. It fell in cascades. It was a collection of small boxes. I opened each one, and they came with part of a letter. The flaps of each box had photos of us collected over the two year period we were together. My eyes brimmed with tears, I looked back at the frozen pockets of time. We were so happy, so in love. Or at least I had thought.

Pictures of us at games together, me wearing his jersey, his name painted on my cheek. I exhaled as the tears flowed steadily. My heart ached. I wanted this, I wanted to be happy again. I wanted to be in love again. But it just wasn't possible, not with him. I pieced the letter together.

I can't express how truly sorry I am. There was nothing that you did wrong. I was selfish and impulsive. I should've never agreed to meet with her. But you deserve to know. You deserve to know it all. So I'm going to tell you the complete truth. It started when you went to the library to study for O.W.Ls. After our game I went to celebrate with friends. One thing lead to another and I got drunk. Pansy came on to me and I didn't stop her. That was the first time we slept together. It continued until you caught us. In total, we were together for 6 months.

The letter kept going but I couldn't keep reading it. So many different things were running through my head. 

“The first time we slept together...”

“For 6 months...”

I left the letter and the gift on the table. I walked outside of the mansion. Once I got outside I moved to the back of the property. My legs gave out and I finally felt it all. I had been trying so hard to keep it together but this was the last straw. I couldn't do it anymore. I let out a sob and felt the tears stream down my face.

He said it wasn't my fault but his actions said otherwise. I wasn't there and he decided I wasn't enough. I continued to sob. The gravel was digging in, but I couldn't bring myself to move. The cold wind showed no mercy. The air ambushed me, making me feel cold. I heard the door to the mansion close. I kept quiet for a moment, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I heard the footsteps against the gravel. They got closer and closer.

I looked up and found Draco looking back at me.

"It was open and I read it." Draco held up the gift, and the accompanying letter. I couldn't even be upset. He was going through the same thing I was. I sighed and wiped my tears. "I'm so sorry." He dropped down and put the letter and gift on the floor. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."  I couldn't help myself. I cried even harder.

He pulled me into him and wrapped his arms around me. "It's going to be okay." He held me as I continued to cry softly. After a few minutes it died down. He pulled back and pulled out a few tissues. He had anticipated what happened when he got back and grabbed a few. I took them and cleaned myself up. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"It's okay, really. I understand." And he did. As he read the letter, it was clear for him too. He took off his jacket and placed it over my shoulders. I went to protest but he shook his head and reassured me he was fine.

"Let's get you out of here."

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

I decided I needed to thank Draco in person. It was the least I could do. I decided the walk would help clear my head. It wasn’t very far, only about 10 minutes. When I arrived at the manor, the gates opened before me. I kept walking to the manor. Once I reached the front door I was greeted by Narcissa. She had always been fairly kind to me. I can only imagine it was due to my lineage. “To what do we owe the pleasure dear?”

I laughed a little, “I just wanted to talk to Draco for a moment, if that’s okay.” She nodded and opened the front door. “He had to go and fetch something in town, but he should be back soon.” I should’ve written him to see if he was going to be busy. It had slipped my mind. I hesitated walking in. “I can just come back another time-”

Narcissa put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh nonsense! You’re welcome wait here.” I didn’t want to seem rude. I hadn’t really spoken to her last night, it seemed only fair. She lead me inside into the kitchen. “I’ll get you a cup of tea.” She gestured for me to sit, so I did. She took a cup from a cabinet. “I can’t help but have overheard what happened.”

I tensed up, this was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Of course she knew, it was her son’s girlfriend after all. “Draco was so torn up about it. You both seemed better last night. I’m glad he has someone like you.” She placed the cup of tea in front of me. “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

She asked me a few questions about my parents, but nothing to invasive. I was beginning to regret staying when the front door opened. Narcissa called to him, and he made his way to the kitchen. He looked a bit surprised. “I just wanted to talk to you for a moment.” He nodded, and I stood. I thanked his mother again. He motioned for me to follow him. We walked to the stairs, “Sorry, for just showing up. I should’ve written to you first.” He shook his head, “It’s not a problem.”

He opened the door to his room. I walked in and he shut the door behind us. “I don't know how to thank you." He sat down on his bed. "I'm sure I'll think of something later." He chuckled. We talked for a couple of hours, continuing some of our previous conversations.We were going to be returning to Hogwarts in 3 days. “Perhaps we can catch the trolley together.”

Draco had been left in an unfortunate situation. Most of the friends he had were shared with Pansy. In the ride back home he was stuck with Blaise and Pansy. Neither of them had spoken a word. He didn’t want to have to relive that.

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

Draco had kept to his word. We started spending a lot of time together. His presence became comforting. Of course whispers began to follow us again. I tried my best to ignore them. Pansy glared at me in the hallways, as if I was the reason their relationship fell apart. I found it amusing. Her and Vaisley truly deserved each other.

Draco and I were sitting in the astronomy tower. We were studying for a test, but I noticed he was awfully quiet. He was just staring at the wall, a blank expression on his face. “Draco?”

“I think I’ve finally figured out how you can repay me.” Draco stated, making me sit up. Curious, I closed my book and leaned forward. I did say that he could ask for a favor. I almost thought he had forgotten about it. “I’m all ears Malfoy.” He laughed, "Let's have a proper first date." I blinked in shock. I had thought of Draco romantically. But I didn’t anticipate anything to come from it. We had both just gotten our hearts broken, and here we were testing fate. I bit my lip, as I thought over the consequences. Draco tried reading my expression.

“You know I would love to.” 

He decided to keep the location a secret. I tried getting information out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. “But I don’t even know what I’m supposed to wear.” He thought for a moment. “Something warm.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. We arrived at the common room and he walked me to my dorm. “I’ve got some things to attend to, I’ll send an owl soon.” He placed a kiss on my forehead before going back down the stairs. I opened my door and sighed. I looked at my closet and pulled some warm clothes. It was still snowing pretty heavily, but spring was almost upon us.

I got ready and kept an eye out for any owls. A few hours later I heard soft taps on my window. I opened it to find Draco’s owl. I gave him a treat before he left again. I opened the letter.

I had more to do then I intended. I sent a car for you.

Draco

I folded the letter back up and left it on my dresser. I made my way to the gates and sure enough, there was a car. My mind was drawing a blank. As I looked out the window, I watched the snow fall.  It was mesmerizing. The ride wasn’t long, only 15 minutes. Once the car came to I stop I thanked the driver. Once I opened the door, I looked in awe. It was a small cabin. It was decorated beautifully. Warm yellow lights wrapped around it, the walls were covered in a thin layer of snow. Draco was standing at the door, he came and met me in the snow. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He opened the door and we were greeted by warmth. He closed the door and hung his coat by the door. He took mine as well. “Thank you.” He lead me to the kitchen. There was an array of sweets and hot chocolate. I looked at him in shock, “You did all this?” He nodded. “I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for so I got an array.”

No one had ever done something so kind for me. I looked at him in awe. “And I got these too.” He showed me an array of movies. “This is perfect.”

We settled on a movie and moved to the couch. It was right by the fire place. He put in the movie then came and joined me. He took a blanket and placed it over us both. I moved closer to him and he smiled. He moved his arm and invited me closer. Once I did he put his arm around me.

After the movie was over he revealed another surprise. Gingerbread houses. It was something I always wanted to do. I remember mentioning it at the Christmas party. “I know its a little late but-”

“I love it.” I was so happy he remembered such a small detail. Shortly after we got started, his house fell apart. I couldn’t help but laugh, he had managed to set all of this up but the gingerbread house was what got him. “What are you going on about?”

“How did you manage that Draco?” He walked over ad smeared the wall of my gingerbread house. He licked his finger and smirked, feeling proud of himself. “Just like that.” I stared at him for a moment and watched as his eyes trailed to my lips.

He moved closer, the tension between us grew. I thought about how happy he made me feel. I thought about how he had been there for me. In an impulse I leaned forward and closed the space between us. Draco responded to the kiss almost immediately. We broke away and he smiled, "Did you just kiss me?" I laughed and rolled my eyes, going to pull away. He responded by pulling me in once more.

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

[nerdyfangirl67]

Home for Christmas - Criminal Minds Reader Insert (12 Days of Christmas)

Pairing: Hotch x fem!reader, Jack Hotchner x reader (maternal relationship

Warnings: angsty at the beginning, lots of Jack x reader moments, fluff ending!

Word count: 2431

A/N: Y/F/C/M stands for your favorite Christmas Movie and Y/N/N stands for your nickname. I also believe that Aaron is the kind of person who texts with correct grammar, although he may use sentence fragments if he is short on time, so that is incorporated into this one-shot. This one came to me while listening to a Christmas song, called “Home” by Blake Shelton and Michael Bublé (linked below). I really enjoyed the idea of this one (it may have gotten away from me a bit!)

Home by Blake Shelton ft. Michael Bublé

So here it is, hope y’all enjoy it! If you’re looking for another Christmas fic to read, check out my Mini-Series masterlist, where the rest of my Christmas one-shots are. 

I know there aren’t any Aaron x Jack moments in the story but this was the GIF I thought fit best :)

“Y/N, it 's Aaron. I, uh, I won’t be making it home in time for Christmas. We have yet to get a break in the case, so it could be another week before I’m home. I know you had a lot planned for Christmas, and I’m sorry I won’t be able to celebrate with you. I’ll try to call, but I can’t promise anything. I love you. Tell Jack I love him.” Aaron’s voice crackles in your ear as you listen to the voicemail he’d left you earlier, as in 3 am, that morning for the eighth time.

It had been the first time you had heard his voice in almost a week and part of you was overjoyed. The other part of you was exasperated. You knew he was dedicated to his work, you had known it since the two of you had started dating, but it still hurt. Every time he worked late and didn’t let you know hurt. Every time a case went longer than expected, it hurt. Every time you went to bed alone, his side of the bed untouched and cold, hurt. And it didn’t hurt any less now, despite your suspicions upon hearing the team had taken another case, so close to Christmas, that he would miss the holiday altogether. 

You let out a sigh as you stand up from where you had been sitting on the couch, wrapped in a Christmas throw blanket. You take your empty glass, which had been filled with your favorite holiday drink, into the kitchen and place it in the sink. You double-check the apartment door, making sure it was both deadbolted and locked (something Aaron had ingrained in you to do while he was away), before making your way towards the master bedroom. You stop at the door to Jack’s bedroom, cracking it open and using the light of the hallway to look at him. 

Jack was sprawled out in his bed, fast asleep. Tiptoeing into the room so as not to wake him, you reach his bed and pull the discarded comforter up off the floor, placing it on top of Jack and gently tucking him in. “Your daddy loves you Jack, and so do I.” You say softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead, giving him a long look, before making your way back out of his room. 

Upon reaching your bedroom, you head to Aaron’s dresser. You find one of his sweatshirts, well-worn and baggy, grab it from the drawer, and pull it on as you climb into bed. You didn’t typically wear his sweatshirts while he was home, but whenever he was away, it helped ease the ache created by his absence. After getting settled underneath the covers with your nose pressed into Aaron’s pillow, you soon fall asleep.

---

You are up early the next morning, quickly climbing out of bed before you realize that you have the next few days off, the 23rd (today) through the 26th for Christmas. You had used a few vacation days to extend your Christmas ‘vacation’, as you and Aaron (who had thought he would have had Christmas case-free) had wanted to spend time with Jack, as a family.

You couldn’t bring yourself to climb back into bed so you head downstairs, the idea of making breakfast for Jack coming to mind. Even though Aaron wouldn’t be home for Christmas, you still wished to make this Christmas special for Jack, just as you had planned to with Aaron. After going through your email and having a cup of your favorite morning beverage, you head into the kitchen. A few minutes of looking and you find your recipe for gingerbread waffles, a favorite from your childhood, and start gathering the ingredients.

Fifteen minutes later and you have your first batch of waffles made, bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove, and orange juice in glasses on the table. Christmas music is playing softly in the background when a small voice has you whipping around.

Jack is standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hair standing up at different angles on his head, and one of his hands sleepily rubbing his eyes. “Good mornin’ mama.” Despite not being his birth mother, Jack had been calling you mama since you had moved in with him and Aaron, over a year ago now. And every time you heard it, you were still overcome by joy.

You pull the boy into your arms, giving him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Hi bud. How’d you sleep?”

“I slept good mama. What are you making?” He asks curiously, peering around you to look at the stove. 

You stand and briskly stride back to the stove to flip the bacon and check on the waffle you had cooking before you turn back to Jack. “Gingerbread waffles and bacon.” You answer, plating one of the waffles and some bacon before bringing it to the table. “Here buddy. Eat up.” You said, placing the plate next to the glass of orange juice. Jack bounces to the table, sitting down and quickly digging in.

---

After breakfast, and a few games of twenty questions, you decide to take Jack to the ice skating rink not too far from the apartment. The two of you bundle up and hail a cab to the rink. You spend the five minute ride to the ice plex with Jack in your arms as the two of you play a game of “I Spy.” 

The cab reaches the ice rink, and after paying the driver you and Jack venture inside. You let out a laugh as he exclaims in excitement at all the trophies, fancy ice skates, and photos of skaters in the lobby. You rent a pair of skates for the two of you, before leading jack out to the seating around the rink. It takes you a few minutes to get skates on, and to help Jack with his but a few short minutes later the two of you are out on the ice. 

It is apparent that you are out of practice and try as you might, you fall several times. Jack is actually skating better than you and soon he is ‘teaching you’. 

“Mama, make sure you aren’t leaning backwards. That might be why you’re falling.” The nine, almost ten, year-old’s advice was helping you to stay on your feet for longer than thirty seconds. You had even started to move cautiously along the edge of the rink, with Jack skating confidently in front of you. The two of you stay out on the ice until Jack tells you he is cold. Admittedly, you were starting to get cold yourself, but you didn’t want to end Jack’s fun early. 

After ice skating, the two of you go to Jack’s favorite pizza place, a little Italian place (the boy had developed sophisticated taste buds, thanks to a certain David Rossi), within walking distance from the apartment. The two of you have a lunch filled with cheesy pizza, endless breadsticks (which both you and Jack enjoyed thoroughly), and lots of laughs.

Then, upon returning to the apartment, the two of you cuddle up on the couch and watch Christmas classics. You share with Jack some of the movies you had grown up watching (Y/F/C/M and Y/F/C/M) and he shares some his favorites with you (The Grinch and Santa Buddies).Your movie marathon only stops when you whip up a quick dinner, which the two of you eat in about ten minutes at the table, and when you get up and pop some popcorn for one of the movies. Jack stays up way past his bedtime, but knowing that neither of you have to get up early the next morning has you being more lenient with his bedtime. 

The next day passes in much of the same fashion. You and Jack take a walk, intent on finding the best Christmas decorations within walking distance. Although you had found some pretty cool decorations, Jack definitely won when he spotted the house decked out with a 12 Days of Christmas theme. Then the two of you stopped for lunch at one of the sidewalk vendors, something that Aaron probably would frown upon. 

After lunch, you and Jack went to a Christmas pop-up village, where you watched the ‘elves’ wrap presents and people take pictures with Santa. The two of you ordered deluxe hot chocolates and sat on a bench, listening to a choir sing Christmas carols. Jack sang along to the ones he knew and he even convinced you to sing along with some too. 

You two return to the apartment in late afternoon, shortly after which, the two of you start making Christmas cookies. You roll out the dough, while Jack stamps the cookie cutters into it, creating a variety of Christmas themed cookies. As the several batches of cookies bake, Jack reads to you from the kitchen’s small island as you follow the recipe for a sugar cookie frosting. When the cookies, and the frosting, are finished, you and Jack set to decorating the cookies. 

Three hours and an order of takeout later, and you have four dozen frosted cookies scattered across the kitchen counter tops, three bags of mostly eaten takeout, two empty mugs, and one frosting and crumb covered boy fast asleep on the couch.

You can’t help but smile as you look at the plate of cookies Jack decorated, not for Santa, but for Aaron when he returned from the case he was working on.There were several Santas, a Rudolph reindeer, a present, and a Christmas tree. As you cover the plate in plastic wrap, you can’t help but think that you would give just about anything to talk to Aaron for a while. It had been two days since he had left the voicemail, and since then all you had gotten were a few short texts. 

“Case progressing. Miss you and Jack.”

“Finally developed a profile. Love you Y/N/N.”

“Thought we had an unsub, but looks like we were wrong.”

“I love you and Jack. Wish I could be holding you both in my arms.”

You heave out a sigh and get to work doing the dishes from dinner and your baking escapade with Jack. The dishes, and tidying up of the kitchen, takes far longer than you want and it’s close to ten before you are gently waking Jack from the couch. You tenderly guide him down the hallway, making a pit stop in the bathroom to help wash some of the frosting off of Jack’s hands and face. After Jack is frosting free, with freshly brushed teeth and clean pajamas, you get him settled in bed. You read him “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” and listen to him sleepily tell you about the gifts he thought might be under the tree, after which you tuck him in and give him a kiss good night. 

You take your time getting ready for bed, wishing the entire time that you would be crawling into bed with Aaron, where you would spend the rest of the night in his arms. But, alas, you are greeted with a cold, empty bed, which you reluctantly climb into as you shoot Aaron a quick text, wishing him a happy Christmas Eve and adding a short ‘I love you.’ You try to read a few pages in your latest book, but your mind isn’t into it. Instead you stare at the softly blinking Christmas lights shining in from the hallway, through the small crack between the door and the door jam, letting the rhythmic changing of the lights lull you to sleep.

---

You wake up to what sounds like the heavy apartment door swinging shut and the floorboards creaking, followed by a low thud and a muttering voice, which you can’t quite make out. Your heart is thudding wildly in your chest as you anxiously climb from the bed and tiptoe to the door of the bedroom. You can’t see any figures in the hallway, so you creep across the hall, placing a hand on the doorknob to Jack’s bedroom and noiselessly start to turn it open. You are so focused on opening the door and getting to Jack that you don’t notice the figure coming down the hallway towards you. A soft hand on your shoulder has you whipping around, landing a heavy hit with the heel of your hand to the intruder’s face. 

“Son of a-” You immediately recognize the voice as Aaron’s, which makes you gasp in shock.

“Aaron. I didn’t know it was you. I’m so sorry.” You say, as you start to fuss over him. You try to guide him to the bathroom, in hopes that you might be able to help him there, but his hands stop you. 

“Y/N, I’ll be alright. All I need is you in my arms.” His words, albeit a bit slurred (probably from the present throbbing in his face) bring a warm, fuzzy feeling into your chest and a cheesy grin to your face. You start to move towards the bedroom, but he pulls you close, scooping you up and easily carrying you back to the bed. The heat created by his body only leaves for a moment as you watch him, in the dull light, strip off his suit jacket and tie, before returning to your side. He pulls you incredibly close, his face in the crook of your neck breathing you in.

You don’t say anything, rather you just take comfort in his presence as you play with the small hairs at the back of his neck. “Gosh, I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before looking up into your eyes. One of his hands comes to rest on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft circles on your cheekbone. 

“Merry Christmas Y/N.” He says, giving you another kiss, this time on the lips. His kiss is slow and tender, as if he wanted to savor the moment and make it last as long as possible. 

Once you pull back, and catch your breath, you whisper, “Merry Christmas Aaron.”

He smiles at you, pressing another, much shorter, kiss to your lips. “I think I’ll wait for later in the morning to let Jack know I’m home; let it be a Christmas surprise for him.” He says, tightening his hold on you.

You smile back at him. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. For now, let me just appreciate my Christmas surprise.”

[writersrealmbts]

Christmas: LIVE (for charity)

Description: You’re a middle-of-the-road youtuber, not super famous, but not unfamous. Golden Closet and V are much more famous, and they’ve agreed to meet up and do a charity live-stream with you! 

“For the Christmas requests would you be able to do a Youtuber au? Where like Tae or Kookie do a charity stream with Y/n? Sorry it came so late it 😭😭”

Warnings: Fluff and stuff

Posted: 12/22/2020

Tags: taekook x reader

2,159 words

A/N: For anonny, here’s your request! Hope you like it! and it didn’t come late!

You kept working on your streaming setup, preparing for your guests for the charity stream. You figured more people were coming for them than you, since you weren’t as big as them on YouTube.

First was V, from Tiger Vante: real name of Kim Taehyung. He did gaming streams with your other guest, and published music now and then that he had quite the following for. Thoughtful videos and compilations of photos, and videos of projects he worked on. He even had a fashion line and made videos about other fashion things, like his fashion through the week. Other fashions, reviewing music and such, as well as doing projects using antique equipment. He was doing a photo study with different old cameras as he was able to, and he posted a lot of inspirational videos.

Your second guest was Jungkook from Golden Closet productions. He did a lot of gaming, was technically a professional gamer, and he also did music and video production. He did everything: art, singing, dancing, gaming, photography, video production--and he was constantly experimenting with new things. But his gaming was the big ticket.

You were a smaller YouTube channel. You had a few covers, and you did a parody song a year or so ago that garnered some attention. You did reactions, and you did some gaming streams, though not as many as your guests. You did a lot of chill games, with other games interspersed. You also did some makeup stuff, mostly stage makeup stuff that you carried over from college. Cooking. You did cooking streams, and sometimes you failed, other times you were successful. But cooking streams were some of your favorites.

You’d started doing the videos as a sort of...accountability. Your therapist recommended it to help you feel like you were doing more, because despite working eight hour workdays five days a week, you still struggled feeling like you were getting anything done and you sometimes lost track of days. It had helped, you were able to keep better track of things and you’d tried new things because of it. And somehow your fanbase had grown to let you cut your hours at your office job and relax a little more.

But today’s stream was to raise money for kids in the hospital, which was why you had V and Jungkook coming. The three of you would be doing various activities together and doing challenges to raise more money.

You arranged the snacks as well as you could, and then put on your elf hat. You’d already raised two hundred dollars just by wearing an elf costume for the stream.

“Hello?”

You stood up and smiled. “Hello! Nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

“I’m Taehyung when I’m offscreen, I’d be happy if you called me that. Offscreen anyway. Thanks for inviting me today! Oh, this is Jungkook!” V introduced the other gamer.

Jungkook sort of dipped his head, looking awkward.

You smiled at both of them. “Nice to meet both of you. Thanks for agreeing to do this with me. I know you probably have better things to do.”

“No way, this is for charity!”

“It’s a good cause,” Jungkook added, sort of looking at you strangely.

“Oh, the outfit. Someone donated 200 dollars if I would wear an elf costume for the stream. My choice for the costume, look okay?” You asked, reaching up to adjust the hat.

“It’s super cute,” Taehyung gushed, then looked over at the setup. “Ooh! Nice! That looks great! Can I set up over there?”

“Go ahead, do you need help bringing in equipment?”

Jungkook shook his head. “Our hyungs are here to help us set up and carry things. We’ll be ready to go in no time.”

“Great, I’ll just stand out of the way.” You backed up and they signalled their group to bring in their equipment.

Between the seven boys, all of the equipment was set up in no time and the three of you were settling down for the stream.

They wished you three a good stream and then scattered.

The three of you sat down, syncing and getting your own set ups going.

“So, we’re going to start, give it five minutes, and then we’ll start playing that game you suggested over chat?” You asked, making sure you had that linked and setting things up so that you wouldn’t have to worry about anything once you were actually streaming.

“Yeah, sounds good. That camera is filming all of us, and then we have our individual ones, right?” Jungkook nodded to the carefully mounted and angled camera.

You nodded, handing cords to both of them for the camera connection. “Took me a while to figure this set up out. Here.”

Taehyung eagerly took it and plugged it into his computer and then let you quickly set it up.

Jungkook had it set up before you finished with Tae.

“Alright, it’s almost time. Ready?”

“Yeah, so...who’s starting things?” Taehyung asked, looking at you.

“My idea, so I can open it if you prefer,” You offered, checking how you looked on camera and then sighing. You couldn’t do much about it now.

“Ok, now, do you have any extra fun holiday stuff?” Taehyung asked, flicking the bell on your hat.

“A santa hat and reindeer antlers headband, and various other more girly things for me to alternate with throughout the stream.” You gestured to a bag and got everything ready. “Set the stream to start on the hour?”

Jungkook nodded then grabbed the santa hat. “Solidarity.”

Taehyung happily put on the antlers headband. “So cute! Okay, now it feels even more festive. How long did it take you to make the background?”

“Oh, I spent a couple hours, no biggie. I did something similar last year for my christmas stream. I just spiced it up a bit this year. One minute.”

They pushed their chairs closer to yours, all three streams using the camera that got all three of you.

You watched the timer tick down, hoping that it was successful and that you raised a lot of money for the charity.

The first fifteen minutes were nothing too special, it was interesting playing with other people while they were in the room and Jungkook kept mumbling thanks for donations in between decimating you and Tae, and Taehyung had a constant conversation going--partially with you--while he played.

You gave everyone a brief update since you hadn’t streamed in a couple days and people were asking about your puppy. “He’s fine. He’ll be home soon.”

“What happened to your puppy?” Jungkook asked, not missing a beat and decimating you in the meantime.

“Nothing serious, he got hurt while we were walking in the woods. They removed his dewclaw on the one leg and stitched him up. He’s already almost ready to come home. I’ll have him home for Christmas. Thank you for your donation, bluegrey613!”

Jungkook glanced over. “Hey, we probably have some requests right now. Since you’re dead can you check the chats?”

“Sure. Let’s see...they want V to do aegyo.”

Taehyung quickly did some, just barely escaping death.

“We don’t have mistletoe, sorry, guys,” You told Jungkook’s chat. “Besides, I kind of doubt they’d want to--”

“Who needs mistletoe?” Taehyung asked, pausing the game.

Next thing you knew donation signals were popping up on all three screens as the boys planted kisses on either of your cheeks.

You stared at the screen, blinking rapidly and trying to recover as both of them went back to their game like nothing had happened.

You swallowed hard and tried to focus on the requests that were flying up your screen. “Um...thank you...agustD for donating...after that request. Um...hopeworld requests that we...all do cutesy poses? He’s offering 50.”

“Make it 100 and it’s a deal,” Taehyung responded, finally getting annihilated.

You scanned the comments, waiting for a response from the same and making faces as requested. “Ooh, while we’re waiting they want to know how we met. Tae, you should tell them that saga.”

“If they’re going to make us do something cutesy, then they better be offering more than a hundred,” Jungkook grumbled.

“So...we started talking online, played a couple of games together recently--offstream so that we could discuss the fundraiser, I think we all have some clips from that game that we’re compiling and that will be posted later,” Taehyung started explaining, checking you and Jungkook for affirmation. “Then we actually met in person today! That’s about it! It’s not much of a story, but it’s a good start, don’t you think?”

You exchanged a curious look with Jungkook after witnessing the wink Taehyung threw the camera. “Snack time?”

Jungkook nodded. “Before he calls himself a snack.”

Your nose scrunched up before you could stop it.

Taehyung laughed, booping your nose. “Not me. But she definitely is.”

You shook your head. “No snacks for you.”

“Hey, hopeworld agreed to 100. Pose,” Jungkook intervened as Taehyung started to fake pout.

All three of you managed to do some cutesy pose and hold it for a couple of seconds until the donation alert popped up with many names.

“Ah...okay...that was popular,” Taehyung said, looking a little stunned as more notifications rolled in.

“Blame Jungkook, he avoids it usually so it’s rare,” You informed him, smirked at Jungkook.

He shrugged. “If I didn’t hold back the world would fall to my cuteness.”

You snorted and turned back to the comments. “RM is requesting that you guys...and I lost it. Whoops.”

“Ooh, here’s one from JinJinJara, he wants us to make couple-y poses--like exaggerated couple pictures!” Taehyung chuckled. “Lets do it!”

“I don’t need to relive prom, thanks, I was fine missing it the first time,” you joked.

“It’s for charity,” Taehyung pouted.

You groaned and then complied.

Not that you were complaining internally about two hunky guys taking mock couple-photos. There was something nice about being held by someone stronger.

The rest of the stream passed by pretty quickly, doing requests from the boys channels since only four people were requesting on your stream--the same five. It was hard not to feel like it was out of pity, the longer the stream went the viewer count on yours went down, and went up on theirs. You double checked your stream but it was fine.

But it was for charity. You didn’t mind being less popular as long as you raised enough money to do some good.

“We should do this next year, and more often! Ooh, could we do a New Years stream?” Taehyung enthused toward the end. You guys had reached your goal while playing another game, and were trying to casually close the stream.

“We…can discuss it…later. Anyway, thank you everyone who was watching and who donated. The donation links for all three of our channels will be open until the 26th! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas from Santa’s workshop!” Taehyung added brightly. “Remember to have all grandmas avoid reindeer crossing sites!”

“And be nice to the elves! They’re doing their best,” Jungkook added, cracking a smile as he flicked your hat.

You rolled your eyes and waved to the camera, then all three of you ended your streams.

“Man. That was intense,” Jungkook murmured.

“So, my five requesters, they’re the friends waiting outside, aren’t they?” You guessed, having done the math.

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Why would you think that?” Jungkook asked.

“Because you guys jumped at every request they gave, usually egging them on for more money, but you were more reserved with every other request given to us. That usually indicates a personal relationship.” You leaned back in your chair, taking off the hat and smoothing your hair.

Taehyung shrugged. “They were going to donate anyway. They just wanted to get their money’s worth. They were technically on all of our streams, but you’re better at reading comments and playing the game so requests on your channel got through better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Boys.”

“We did really well,” Jungkook said softly. “We make a good team. We just need to improve your playing on a couple games.”

You smiled. “Maybe. Alright. So, as far as new years goes, I’ve got a few games we can play while being in different places if that would work better. But also do it at a different time than when people would normally be partying because otherwise it would be a bust.”

“Okay!”

“Sounds good. Want to go grab some food with us? My treat?” Jungkook offered, smiling at you.

You pause, but then nod. “Sure. That sounds great. We can come back after to get your stuff if you like.”

“Sounds like a magical plan to me!” Taehyung grinned at you and then kissed your cheek again. “You really should have put some mistletoe in here. That would have made it extra festive. I’ll go tell hyungs the plan.”

You definitely weren’t blushing.

[skygirl5]

12 Prompts of Christmas - #9 Eggnog

This is a continuation of the previous chapter’s universe (behind the jump due to length) 

NINE - Eggnog

On his first morning waking up in the isolated cabin, Rick wished to sleep late, but he couldn’t because he woke up before dawn absolutely, positively freezing. His normal sleeping attire for winter was boxers and a t-shirt because he generally kept his apartment fairly warm. He’d thought the blankets on the cabin’s bed would keep him warm enough, but evidently that was not the case; all his extremities felt like ice. Rick shivered so bad he could hardly pull on his jeans and button-down from the prior day before hobbling to the potbelly stove in the main room of the cabin and fiddling with it for ten minutes before he could figure out how to get a fire going inside of it once more.

Knowing warmth would soon come, Rick grabbed a blanket and tried to lay on the couch, which was the closest place to the stove on which to lay, but he was too miserably cold to fall back to sleep. Figuring maybe an afternoon nap would be more productive, he made coffee and sat with it cradled in his hand while wearing a blanket as a cape as he tried to warm up.

Though it took an hour, the cabin soon almost became too warm, but given how cold he had been Rick chose not to mind that too much and did his best to get some writing done. He wrote a few pages, but soon found it difficult to focus, and decided to go on a walk around the lake for a distraction. He also thought perhaps he might run into Kate, the intriguing woman whose mitten he found the day before, but he sadly did not. He did bump into an older couple who had a very friendly yellow lab and chatted with them for about ten minutes, but that was all the human interaction he had.

Back in his cabin, he called Alexis once it was a reasonable hour on the west coast. Unfortunately, their conversation was quite jumbled due to very poor reception, but he was at least able to confirm that Meredith had picked her up from the airport and was taking her shopping that day.

Since speaking with his daughter reminded him once again that she was not going to be with him for Christmas, Rick distracted himself by eating the pre-made salad he’d purchased for lunch and turned back to his writing, which was actually successful that round. He found himself so “in the zone” that he didn’t even notice how late it was getting until he got out of his chair to go to the bathroom and realized most of the cabin was completely dark.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d done, Rick decided it was time to make himself dinner. He’d purchased some chicken cutlets which he planned on stir-frying and with some vegetables he purchased and so he began rummaging in the kitchen cabinets for the tools he’d need. He found a cast iron skillet and cutting board to use to prep his food. He’d purchased oil just in case the cabin didn’t have any, which ended up being a good call because he didn’t find any in the small pantry.

After pouring the oil into the skillet, he set it on the two burner stove so that it could heat up, but when he turned the knob to ignite the burner, he heard a click, but no flames appeared. Twisting his lips to the side in concentration, he crouched down and proceeded to fiddle with the knobs and burner for several more minutes to no avail; he could not get the stove to turn on.

Not too worried at that point, Rick decided that the best thing to do would be to call the cabin’s owner, Chip. He was a friendly older gentleman who had talked to Rick for nearly an hour when the cabin booking was made. Evidently the cabin belonged to Chip’s father, who was an avid fisherman. After his father passed, Chip inherited the place, but didn’t enjoy fishing as much, so he mostly rented it out. He’d told Rick not to hesitate to call if an issue arose, and Rick decided to do just that—even though it was technically Christmas Eve.

Rick walked over to where he’d left his laptop at the table. There, he’d left his phone as well as the contact information for Chip. Before he’d even begun to dial, Rick frustratingly realized his phone displayed a “No Signal” error. It hadn’t been that long since he’d spoken to Alexis, though admittedly the call had been cutting in and out at that time.

Figuring the reception had to be better outside, he put on his heavy coat and then dialed Chips number on the phone but didn’t hit the “send” button. Then, he stepped outside the cabin and was immediately knocked back by a wall of bone-chilling cold. The stinging temperature of the air was so great that he actually yelped, but then tried to recover as quickly as he could so he could get his phone call over with. Rick wandered around the area in front of the cabin for several minutes with his phone above his head waiting for the “No Signal” to vanish and bars to appear, but they never did.

Frustrated, Rick stomped out further into the yard, chasing an elusive signal. Just one bar!! He only needed one bar!!

He was about fifteen feet away from the house when he realized that small snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky above. He glanced up briefly, but that far after dusk it was almost pitch black outside. He was stumbling around only from the ambient light of the cabin’s exterior lighting, which at that distance was minimal at best. Yet, Rick remained determined to get a cell signal.

“Uhh Rick? Are you okay?” Rick heard after about seven minutes of wanting around in the freezing cold darkness.

“Wha—huh?” Startled he spun around until he saw the beam of a flashlight approaching, though due to the darkness he could not see the face of the person speaking to him.

“Are you okay?”

“I—who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The woman moved the flashlight beam from the ground to point straight upwards. It barely illuminated her face, but he recognized her immediately. “You found my glove yesterday; I’m-”

“Kate,” he breathed, still a bit shocked to have met up with her by the lake near his cabin. “Yeah, I remember.”

“So…are you alright? You don’t have a flashlight…”

He grumbled. “I didn’t mean to walk this far from my cabin I just—I’m trying to get some cell reception.”

She hummed. “Well, you might not have too much luck with that, especially with this snowstorm coming in.”

Rick frowned. “Oh…I…hmm…sorry,” he added quickly when he could see Kate’s brow tightening in confusion. “The stove in the cabin stopped working and I tried to fix it, but, frankly, I have no idea what could be wrong, so I thought I’d call the cabin’s owner but…”

“Right.” Kate nodded. Then, after a beat added, “I can take a look if you want. I was just taking a little walk so it’s not big deal.”

“Oh—oh!” his tone elevated with surprise when he realized she was offering to help him, a total stranger, without being asked. Then again, he had found her glove earlier, so they weren’t total strangers, just mostly strangers. “Sure. That would be—that’d be great, thank you. Thank you so much.”

She shrugged and the followed him across the crisp ground towards the cabin. “It’s not a problem. The stove my parents had for years was…something. Probably a terrible fire hazard, to be honest. I finally made my father replace it a few years ago, because I was convinced one of the times he tried to fry up one of the fish he caught the whole place would go up in smoke.”

“Fair enough,” Rick chuckled as they reached the cabin’s porch.

He led the way inside where Kate scuffed her boots against the welcome mat and unzipped her coat as she slipped through the narrow doorway. She gazed around for a moment, but then immediately walked into the kitchen on the left. “Oh, yeah, this one is just like ours—only smaller,” she proclaimed upon looking at the stove.

“So you know all its secrets,” he concluded, hopeful.

“Let’s hope so,” she said, smiling at him over her shoulder before setting to work. Rick tried to ignore the tingles that smile sent down his spine as he leaned against the kitchen table, wanting to stay out of her way and feeling a bit awkward that he was unable to assist.

Rick watched as Kate checked dials and plugs and arched her body over the top of the range unit so she could presumably check the wall connection. Then with a quick, “Be right back,” she walked outside the cabin once more and he could see her walking around the house through the small window above the kitchen sink. She was outside about five minutes before she returned with a frown.

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Suspecting he knew the bad news, Rick concluded, “You know what’s wrong, but can’t fix it.”

Giving him a sad smile, she said, “No, I can’t. For whatever reason this stove uses a different fuel tank than the one hooked up to the water heater and furnace and that fuel tank is very empty. The owner must have forgotten to have it refilled; I’m sorry.”

Rick huffed out a breath. “Well considering its Christmas Eve I don’t think I’m going to get a fuel delivery

“No, I don’t think so.” After a moment she suggested, “You could make a fire?”

His immediate reaction was to cringe. “Ah… at the risk of sounding unmanly: I don’t know that I could successfully cook chicken that way without either burning it or giving myself food poisoning.”

She laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I guess I couldn’t either.”

They stood side by side in the tight kitchen silently for a moment before Rick said, “Well, that’s okay. I’ll just cut my trip a little short and go home first thing tomorrow morning, but I really appreciate your help, Kate.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before trapping her bottom lip between her teeth and glancing over to the kitchen counter, where his packet of chicken and vegetables were sitting beside the stove, waiting patiently for him to finish prepping them. After nearly twenty seconds of silence she finally concluded, “C’mon—grab your food; you can use my stove.”

Now taken completely aback, he held his one hand up defensively and stammered, “Oh—I—I wasn’t-”

“I know, but it’s Christmas, right? C’mon.”

Nodding, he hurried to the counter and began gathering what he could and shoving it back into the shopping bag it came from. “Thanks—thanks so much. Should we drive to your place, or…?”

She nodded. “Might as well. It’s only going to snow harder as the night goes on.”

Ten minutes later, after grabbing his food, other necessary cooking items, and his coat, Rick was following Kate’s directions to navigate his Mercedes towards her family’s cabin. The journey was short and she soon was leading the way into the warm, rustic space. Her cabin was significantly larger than the one he was renting. The living space was more expansive and from the length of the hall he could see in the rear, he guessed it had three bedrooms not just two. Unlike his cabin, which was decorated with mostly generic fishing or rustic décor, this was clearly a family cabin with knickknacks and family photos adding to the warmth.

“Oh, wow this is really nice.”

Kate shrugged as she took off her coat, “It isn’t much…mostly just a little escape.”

“Yeah, but it’s still great—homey.” He smiled at her for a few seconds then put his grocery bags down while he took off his coat, too. “Well, uh, I won’t take up too much of your time. Can I make you something, too? As a thank you.”

“Oh, um…” she hesitated for a moment then threw her hands out to the side in a ‘giving up’ gesture. “Sure, why not. I saw you had chicken and vegetables…”

“Yeah, I was going to put them all together in a stir fry.”

“I have some rice to make.”

“Perfect!”

For the next few minutes they both busied themselves in the tight kitchen. It was a delicate dance as there was not too much counter space around the stove, even though it did seem, as Kate had implied, that the space had been renovated recently. They managed it well enough, and after Kate started the rice, Rick chopped the vegetables and dumped them into the skillet before turning to the chicken cutlets and slicing them as well.

“So, tell me Kate, what is it that you do?”

“I’m a police officer.”

His brow arched as he pushed the chicken off the cutting board and into the pan. “Really? So you’re used to saving people in distress?”

She laughed airily. “Something like that.”

He washed his hands at the kitchen sink and then, after turning off the water, he told her. “I’m an author.”

“I know.”

Startled by her words, he did a double-take in her direction and nearly dropped the towel he was using to dry his hands. “You…do you read my books?”

Kate’s cheeks turned slightly pink as she confessed, “I might have skimmed through one or two.”

Assuming her dismissive comment was just meant to be a way to avoid some embarrassment, Rick smiled as he turned to their skillet meal, picked up a spatula, and began pushing around chicken and vegetable pieces so nothing burned.

So, Kate was, presumably, a fan of his books. How else would she have recognized him from just his first name? That also made sense. Since she was saving him from going hungry that evening he hadn’t wanted to question it, but he did find it slightly odd that a young woman such as herself would invite a strange man back to her cabin, which was isolated in the middle of nowhere. Maybe that was just his writer’s mind used to spinning dark scenarios but…well, thinking about his daughter, he hoped that she would not make the same decision in a similar circumstance for the sake of her safety. Finding out she was a police officer made a bit more sense; her training presumably made her feel more comfortable with self-defense, but if she knew him as a public figure, she would have been more likely to feel safe around him—not that he would have ever thought of hurting a woman, but sadly he knew that was not always the case with others.

Feeling in the mood to tease her a little bit more, he said, “So that’s why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because I’m one of your favorite authors?”

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she eyed him skeptically. “I’m not sure that’s what I said.”

“It was implied.”

She laughed. “I see.”

Silence hung in the air for several moments before he changed the subject with, “So you live around here?”

“No, Manhattan.”

Now even more pleasantly surprised he proclaimed, “Oh! You’re NYPD?” After she confirmed with a nod, he said, “That’s amazing. How long have you been on the force?”

“Oh, not long. I graduated the academy in August.”

“Ahh well if you’re willing, I’d be all too happy to hear all your rookie stories as we eat.”

Ignoring his question, she instead offered, “Do you need help with anything? I feel bad I’m just standing here.”

“Nonsense,” he said casually. There really wouldn’t have been room for her to join him at the stove; the space was too tight. Besides, he didn’t mind. “I really enjoy cooking; it helps me think and plan my writing usually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, because it keeps my hands busy, but my mind free to wander.”

“Hmm…makes sense.”

A few minutes later their meal was complete. Rick divided the stir fry and rice between two plates and then carried them over to the small dining table tucked in the corner of the room. As he set the plates down, he noticed a photo hung on the wall of a family: a man and a woman with a young girl about seven or eight standing in between them. The photo was clearly older and faded, and both adults wore sunglasses, but the woman had long dark hair and distinctive jawline and the man lighter brown hair and a soft smile. All three wore lifejackets and the lake—presumably the one located just a few feet away—could be seen behind them.

“This is you and your parents, I assume?” he asked, thumbing towards the photo.

“Yeah.”

“Where are they at? Don’t tell me they took a tropical vacation without you?”

She gave a soft smile as she picked up her fork and began to eat. “No, nothing like that.”

“You’re lucky, though—getting Christmas off,” Rick said in between bites. He didn’t imagine that was common for a rookie officer.

“I have to work Christmas day in the evening. And…I’ll be in Times’ Square on New Year’s Eve,” she explained.

“Oh! And you’re…not excited about that?” he guessed based on her tone. She gave him a look and he let out a small laugh. “Ah, right, I suppose not.”

“It’s only supposed to be fifteen degrees out!”

He nodded, sympathetic. “I know, I know; I don’t envy you at all. I’ve done it a few times as a spectator and it was never too bad as long as I’d had plenty of alcohol to warm me up.”

“I’m sure.”

They ate quietly for several minutes before Rick asked, “Did you spend your Christmases up here when you were little?”

“Mmm no. This place was usually my dad’s escape. His father and uncles purchased it when they were all young men. Now, they’ve all passed, and the cabin became my father’s, so he’s the one with the most connection to it. We used to come up here at least one week every summer to do things with the lake and just get out of the city, but almost never in the winter.”

Rick considered her comments as he slowly chewed his meal. He wondered why, if Kate’s father was so connected to the cabin, the elder man hadn’t joined her for the holiday? Furthermore, why hadn’t her mother? Sensing the question may have been a bit too personal to ask with that moment, he decided on a slight change of subject.

“I, um, I think I need to come up with some good holiday traditions for my daughter. I used to make sure I got her picture sitting on Santa’s lap every year, but this year she outright refused because she’s figured out that Santa isn’t real, so she’s a little salty about the whole ritual and refused to humor me. That’s literally what she said to—‘Dad, don’t expect me to humor you.’”

Kate laughed. “How old is she?”

“Six.”

Kate laughed again, harder that time. “Six?!”

“Yeah: six going on twenty. I think she’s already too smart for me and I fear that will soon be a pretty big problem.”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, it might be. Where is she spending Christmas?”

Sighing, Rick set down his fork and said, “With her mother. Last year, we’d just separated, so we tried to have a joint Christmas and it…didn’t go so well.” He involuntarily shivered at the memory of the wildly inappropriate phone conversation Meredith had with her new lover during their shared meal and their fight thereafter. “So, this year we decided to split the winter holidays: I got Thanksgiving and Meredith got Christmas.”

She nodded and said, “That must be hard.”

Unable to verbalize just how much his heart was breaking, Rick tried to stay positive. “I suppose it’s unfair of me to complain. I have primary custody, so I have Alexis nearly all the time, but Christmas…it’s my favorite holiday. My favorite time of the year. What’s worse is I had to send her to California by herself. I did get to take her through security to the gate and the assigned chaperone was extremely nice and gave her a candy cane but… it was still really hard to walk away.”

“I can’t imagine,” Kate said. When he met her sympathetic gaze, Rick did have to admit to feeling slightly better. Still, his heart was heavy.

“Sorry to bring the mood down.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even worry about it.”

Finishing his glass of water, Rick continued with, “It’s, ah, why I came out here. Being in my apartment without her just felt like something that was too sad to bear.”

“I get that. It’s one of the reasons I’m not doing Christmas in the city this year.”

Surprised, his brow rose sharply. “You have a child?”

“What? No—sorry. Sorry. My mother…died.”

His eyes widened and his chest constricted with sorrow. Though he knew he didn’t do it directly, Rick did feel bad about bringing up a subject that was sensitive. “Oh—oh Kate I’m so sorry.”

One corner of her lip tugged upwards in a sad half-smile in acknowledgement of his comment. “This is the fourth Christmas without her. She, ah, died in January. Just after the holidays and…and my dad and I haven’t really celebrated since. He…we don’t even talk about it. We just don’t celebrate, which is…well, it is what it is, but being in the city makes it harder—walking past all the places where we made memories together as a family. And then this year…” She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, almost as though she needed to reset herself. “The reason I even got to take off work at all was because I had to take him to rehab.”

“Oh god,” Rick sighed, now feeling even worse. There he was complaining about not getting to spend a few days with his kid, who would be back before New Years’, and poor Kate had lost one parent forever and the other was struggling to the point where he was unavailable to her as well. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Kate.”

She gave him an appreciative smile. “It’s been bad for a while. I knew it. We both knew it. He’s been trying to get a handle on it on his own and been insisting he didn’t need an in-patient program, but it just wasn’t working, you know? Finally, I got him to agree to go as a Christmas present to me. Some present,” she added wryly.

“It will be if it helps him,” Rick pointed out in a soft tone.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that. It’s just…hard.” She sat for another moment before pushing herself up out of her chair suddenly, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out a cardboard carton, which she held up to him. “Want some?”

Even from that distance, Rick could clearly read the word “Eggnog” printed on the side and said, “Sure. Why not? It’s Christmas Eve.”

Kate poured two small glasses and handed him one. At the first sip he choked, his palate shocked by the alcohol, which he hadn’t expected since she poured it from a store-bought container and to his knowledge the store-bought kind was alcohol free. “Wow,” he croaked. “Your recipe could give my mother’s a run for her money.”

“Sorry—I should have warned you. I, uh, got a little heavy handed last night when I poured the whisky in the container.”

He shook his head in as an indication he didn’t mind, but he did make sure to take a more delicate sip the next time.

“So, your mother—will you see her for Christmas?” Kate asked.

“Ah, no, actually. She’s an actress and she’s touring with a holiday production. Their shows run through January second and she’ll come back home after that.”

“And your father?”

“Never met him,” Rick replied casually, taking another sip of eggnog.

Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Never?”

Rick bobbed his head, knowing his untraditional backstory was a bit hard to process for most people. “Yeah; I don’t even know who he is. I was the, ah, product of a one-night stand.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Rick shook his head. “’s okay. I’ve had over thirty years to process it.”

“Still…to never know a parent…I can’t imagine.”

He nodded. “Most can’t—and I’m glad. It’s certainly not something I would wish on anyone, but yet it’s also something that made me who I am.”

She nodded approvingly. “That’s a very healthy attitude, Rick.”

He raised his glass in salute. “Well, thank you.”

For the next three hours they drank the remainder of the quart of eggnog and chatted about an amalgamation of subjects: their jobs, the holiday season, life. Though he didn’t exactly acknowledge it at the time, looking back Rick was almost stunned how easy it seemed to talk to her about anything. Over the course of his life, he’d found himself having quick and easy connections to people he met several times, but each one was unique in its own way. With Kate, their conversation flowed effortlessly. They bounced around to a variety of topics and then back again without feeling like the conversation was too disjointed or nonsensical. It was all smooth and connected, like she was one of his oldest friends in the world instead of a woman he’d met by pure chance the day before.

Once the eggnog was finished, Kate offered Rick some water since he was driving, but he declined when he realized how long they’d been talking. By traditional standards it wasn’t that late, but he felt as though a holiday such as Christmas Eve had an exception. He didn’t want to displace whatever existing holiday plans she had for herself that night, particularly since she was returning to work the following day.

“I appreciate it, but I really should get out of your hair.”

“Ahh, yeah okay. I…I don’t think I realized what time it was,” she said with a light laugh.

“Yeah me neither. I, um, I really appreciate you letting me use your stove.”

She nodded. “Of course. Thanks for making dinner. It was…nice to have someone to eat with.”

Smiling, he agreed with, “Same,” and then stared at her for a moment, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye. A handshake seemed far too impersonal, but would a hug be too much? Deciding he shouldn’t over think it and that it was probably okay considering the intimacy of their conversation, he stepped up and gave her a brief one-armed hug, which she thankfully reciprocated. “Merry Christmas,” he said as he backed his way to the door, where he’d left his coat.

“Yes, Merry Christmas.”

Now zipping his coat, he reached for the door handle and smiled back over his shoulder at her, “Goodnight Kate.”

“Goodnight, Rick,” she echoed. Then, with a nod of his head, he disappeared out into the freezing snow-covered night.

[wastelandcth]

12 day of dovemas - cth

day eight: christmas spirit

summary: with a newborn, the christmas spirit is lost in the Hood household, good thing Calum loves his wife as much as she loves Christmas. 

author’s notes: this one was a little soft, and it’s also a prequel to christmas baking so enjoy! 

masterlist || request ||  series masterlist

Calum wasn't really one to delve into the Christmas spirit. Every year on Christmas it just seemed like his life was too chaotic with scheduling tours, recording sessions, promo, and fitting his new lifestyle into all of that. He and Dovey had just welcomed their son into their lives a few weeks before the start of December and Calum couldn't remember the last time he had a full eight hours of sleep. If he wasn't waking up to care for a very whiny baby who would only fall asleep if Calum sang to him in a hushed voice or if Dovey was holding him near her chest, he was busy at the studio with the band finishing up the album they were meant to release in the new year. 

Dovey had always loved Christmas traditions, whether it was decorating the tree with strung up popcorn or going out caroling with her family around the neighborhood. All of those things were too time-consuming with a newborn and Dovey feared that this would be the one Christmas where she and Calum would have to miss out on the holiday traditions. She'd been too tired to even go out and buy a tree, Charlie having kept her up most nights with feedings and making sure he was breathing every thirty seconds. She'd even tried to have a Christmas movie marathon with Calum, which ended with both of them making it fifteen minutes into A Christmas Carol before falling asleep in each other's arms. It just seemed like Christmas was going to have to wait another year. 

It was the middle of the month when Calum noticed something was off about his wife. Having spent multiple Christmases with her, he knew that his wife loved nothing more than getting into the holiday spirit and going all out for the holiday. But as the days of December passed by and Dovey and he got used to their new parenthood, Calum couldn't help but notice that their house still had fall decorations up and that the speaker in the kitchen hadn't played a Christmas carol once. It wasn't until he found Dovey in the nursery with tears falling down her cheeks as she held up a Santa onesie that he'd bought to celebrate Charlie's first Christmas that he realized exactly how much of the Christmas spirit he'd felt the past years came from Dovey.

"Sweet girl, why don't you get some sleep? I'll watch the little one, yeah? Maybe he and I can go for a walk around the neighborhood and give you some peace." Calum had whispered into his wife's shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as both of them watched their baby boy squirm around his bassinet. 

Usually, Calum would complain when it came to putting up a Christmas tree, Dovey and he never agreed with the theme of their Christmas tree and it usually ended with them making another family member choosing for them. But here he was, in the late hours of the night with a sleeping baby strapped to his chest and his wife finally sleeping soundly upstairs while he strung up popcorn to wrap around the Christmas tree that Luke had gone to pick up for him after Calum had told him about the Hood household struggle to take on a newborn and Christmas. Luke had shown up a few hours before, helping him set up the Christmas tree in the living room and sneakily taking the time to hang out with his favorite baby while Calum set up a few decorations in and around the house. 

"You know, Charles, your papa loves your mama so much he would do the one thing he hates for her, getting on ladders to hang up Christmas lights in the dead of night." Luke had whispered to the sleeping newborn, chuckling as he heard Calum walk back into the living room carrying bags of Christmas baubles and tinsel. "He'd do the same for you, little one." 

By the time Dovey had woken up the next morning after managing to have a full night's sleep for the first time in months, Calum had transformed their house into a winter wonderland complete with the Christmas tree of Dovey's dreams. Dovey's first step in the morning was usually to walk into the nursery and check on the baby, so the panic rose in her when she was met with an empty bassinet. She'd rushed downstairs, her eyes wide as she was met with the smell of Christmas candles and twinkling lights that lit up the living room. It was still dark outside, the early morning sky still showing the stars outside, and her heart swelled as she heard soft snores coming from the couch. 

In the middle of what seemed like a Christmas bomb that had exploded, Dovey found Calum fast asleep, his hand resting flat on Charlie's back who was snuggled into his papa's chest, both of them the perfect image of one another. Squished cheeks and soft snores were all Dovey needed to see before she pulled a blanket over the two loves of her life, making sure to keep the chill away while she walked around the living room to explore exactly what Calum had been up to while she slept. When the fussy newborn let out a soft whine, Dovey hadn't hesitated to take him from Calum, who only shift and chose to hug a pillow instead. 

"Did you and papa do this, sweet boy?" Dovey whispered as she soothed the baby in her arms, his brown eyes staring up at her and then on the twinkling lights that shone above their heads. "He's a very special guy, isn't he? Just like you." 

It wasn't long until Dovey found herself in the kitchen, Charlie once again asleep in his sling while Dovey pulled out ingredients and preheated the oven, the quiet house filling with scents of Christmas cookies. Calum soon waking up to find that the Christmas spirit was once again in the Hood household and that his son's first Christmas would be one to remember. 

taglist:  @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop​

[myhauntedsalem]

19 Parents Share The Creepiest Things Their Kids Have Ever Said

Kids say the darnedest things, but they also come out with ridiculously creepy things as well. When Reddit asked ‘what is the creepiest thing your child has ever said?’ Parents of the internet came forward with their stories and boy, they didn’t disappoint.

Here are nineteen of the most disturbing, chill inducing stories shared.  All we ask is for you to try and suppress the urge to lock your children in a cupboard after reading these.

1. “Daddy Its A Monster… We Should Bury It.”

My 3 year old daughter stood next to her new born brother and looked at him for awhile then turned and looked at me and said, “Daddy its a monster… we should bury it.”

2. “The Man Who Crawls On The Floor And Stands By My Bed.”

My co-worker’s four year old daughter always thought that the rattling of the water pipes in the kitchen cupboards were “white wolves” and the sound always scared her. One day she was sitting at the kitchen table and she said, “Mom. The white wolves aren’t bad… they’re our friends!”

Her mom encouraged the idea by saying, “Yes! The white wolves are protecting us. They are our friends.” Then her daughter added in, “They’re our friends, but not the man who crawls on the floor and stands by my bed”.

3. “Good Bye Dad.”

I was tucking in my two year old. He said “Good bye dad.” I said, “No, we say good night.” He said “I know. But this time its good bye.”

Had to check on him a few times to make sure he was still there.

4. “It’s The Closest I Can Get To Seeing Her Dead.”

He’s not my kid, but my godson is extremely creepy. He likes to stand in his little sister’s doorway while she naps and watches her sleep. I ask him why and he says, “it’s the closest I can get to seeing her dead.” He also likes to shove her fist in his mouth as far as it can go because he wants to ���know what suffocating is like, just in case.” I’m pretty sure he’d be a serial killer if it wasn’t for Mario Kart.

5. “The Man With The Snake Neck.”

While changing my daughter in front of the open closet door. She kept looking around me and laughing. I asked her what was so funny. She said, “the man.” To which I replied, “what man?” She then pointed at the closet and said, “the man with the snake neck.” I turn around and nothing was there.

I’m afraid to look into the history of my house to see if anyone hung themselves in the closet. At least she wasn’t scared.

6. You Will Die Soon

Not to me, but to his grandmother.

He was cuddling with her and being very sweet (he was about 3 at the time). He takes her face in his hands, and brings his face close to hers, then tells her that she’s very old, and will die soon.

Then he makes a point of looking at the clock.

7. “I Want To Peel All Your Skin Off.”

I was sound asleep, and at around 6am I was woken up by my 4 year old daughters face inches from mine. She looked right into my eyes and whispered, “I want to peel all your skin off”.

The backstory here is I had been sunburned the previous week, and was starting to peel. In my sleep addled state however, it was pretty terrifying for a few seconds. I didn’t know if I was dreaming, or what was going on.

8. “When You Die, I’m Going To Eat You.”

My sons were about 2 and 4 when their pet goldfish died. I attempted to use the situation as an opportunity to discuss death and mortality. After I finished my explanation, my four year looked up at me with his big, blue eyes and asked, “Mommy, someday, will you die?” My heart filled with love and a little sadness, knowing this was one of those pivotal moments when the first bit of childhood innocence was lost,and I told him yes, someday, mommy will die.

“Good,” he said with a totally deadpan expression, and walked out of the room.

Later when we were about to flush the fish, he asked if we could eat him instead. I said no, we don’t eat pets because we love them, and he said, “When you die, I’m going to eat you.”

9. “Carson Is Gone, I Am Rick.”

When my son was little he, maybe 3, he used to do this weird crawl where he would slide his forehead along the floor. That was pretty creepy in itself. Then one night he crawled across the hallway into my room like that and stood up a few inches from my face and made a weird meow sound. He got into bed with me and went to sleep.

Another time he was freaking out about a monster in the basement so we went down and saw nothing, of course, and as I turned out the light and headed upstairs and he said “Hes right behind us now.” I might have peed a little.

Possibly the creepiest thing he did was one day I scolded him for misbehaving so he hid his head under his blanket. I pretended I couldn’t find him by saying “Where is my little Carson?” He slowly lowered the blanket and with a dead evil stare said, “Carson is gone, I am Rick.” I’m certain he’s possessed. We never knew any Ricks, as far I can remember. Still don’t. Never figured out where he picked up the name.

10. “I Died And Now I’m Here.”

Getting my two and a half year old daughter out of the bath one night, my wife and I were briefing her on how important it was she kept her privates clean. She casually replied “Oh, nobody ‘scroofs’ me there. They tried one night. They kicked the door in and tried but I fought back. I died and now I’m here.” She said this like it was nothing.

My wife and I were catatonic.

11. Baby Brother

“So I shouldn’t throw him in the fire?”

3 year old daughter holding her baby brother for the first time.

12. The Pretty Girl At The Cottage

My 3 year old nephew was at my cottage. He’s asked me numerous times about the “girl over there” while pointing at one of the back bedrooms. The place is small, and there is definitely nobody there so I just dismiss it as a really active imagination (he has lots of imaginary friends).

Then some friends are visiting and they have a daughter around the same age. She has never met my nephew. Twice in the one day she asked about the “pretty girl” while pointing at the exact same room. Definitely caught me out and I didn’t know what to think.

Then at Christmas my family was over at my place and my nephew points at a picture of my wife and asks if she is coming to visit us here or does she just stay at the cottage. My wife died ten years ago. Personally I don’t really believe in paranormal stuff so it’s probably just my logical brain putting together a bunch of kids ramblings but it definitely got my attention.

13. “He’s Behind You Now.”

“Go back to sleep, there isn’t anything under your bed”.

“He’s behind you now”.

Still haven’t gotten over that one and shiver at the memory.

14. “He’s Coming For You. You Better Hide.”

While not something my own child has said, my younger cousin (around 5 at the time) once drew a picture of a a black monster, looked up at me, and said “He told me to draw this. He’s coming for you. You better hide.”

15. “You Will Put Me Down, Down, Down In The Hole.”

I have a three year old who says some pretty strange stuff….

Last night: “Mommy.. the man, the very big man with big yellow eyes is looking at you.”

I look.. nothing. I tell him there is no man and he is make-believe. My son laughs, “Oh he is hiding now.” — 2 minutes later, “Oh no Mommy, you made him very mad. Now he says he will come when you are sleeping.”

Few weeks ago he tells me, “I’m not going to be four. I’m going to die. And you will put me down, down, down in the hole.” I tell him that isn’t true, and who told him that. He gets quiet and goes, “The man told me. But I will be scared, so after three night-nights you die too and come with me.”

Sheesh. As if I didn’t have bad dreams already.

16. “Daddy, I Love You So Much That I Want To Cut Your Head Off.”

A friend of mine’s child told him “Daddy, I love you so much that I want to cut your head off and carry it around so I can see your face whenever I want.”

17. The Bad Man

Why are you crying?

“Bad man”

What bad man?

“There.” Points behind me at a dark corner of the room

Lamp on bookshelf next to said darkened corner falls off as soon as I turn to look.

She slept in our bed that night

18. Ham Can’t Scream

When I was a waitress, I watched a little girl (4ish) stab her plastic fork into her sandwich repeatedly, saying “die die die die die die”. When I asked her what she was doing (her mom was in the bathroom for a minute), she replied with a straight face, “I like to kill things, but mom says I shouldn’t. So I picked the ham because it can’t scream.”

19. Satan Wants To Meet You

A few months ago I asked me brother and his wife if their kids ever did any creepy. They both immediately looked at each other and seemed surprised that I had asked.

Apparently the last few couple of weeks they would hear my niece talking to herself in her bedroom. They assumed it was just her playful imagination so they didn’t give it much thought. One day however my brother asked her who she kept talking to, she said it was her new best friend Satan who visits her at her window every day. Her window is close to the ground so they were seriously concerned that there was someone actually going up to her window and kept a closer eye on her for the next few days.

Every single time they would hear her talking he would go outside to her windows but never found anyone. They began asking her more about his new friend and apart from his name being Satan she mentioned that he follows her everywhere she goes and that he promised her he will bring her a cake one day.

At a late cookout at my parents a week before they mentioned that, she took her mom outside to the backyard and pointed at the pitch black backyard and told her that her friend Satan was there and he wanted to meet her also. That made chills run down my spine since I was at that cookout also. After that they made her promise she wouldn’t talk to Satan anymore.

[lycorogue]

Perfect Doesn’t Need to be Perfect: Chapter 5

Yeah, bit of a heads up, this chapter got away from me and became way more angsty than I intended. 0_0 I'm gonna try to bring this story back to fluffiness in the next chapter. Sorry about that.

In the original story (as you're well aware because I'm sure you've listen to me and read Twelve Days of Chatmas already), this chapter only had a small Ladybug cameo. Which means I more-or-less had free rein on this... probably why the angst was able to creep in. >3< (Can't leave me (creatively) alone for 2 minutes; I swear)

Also, I had no clue what to do with the akuma, so I made some weird Scrooge/Grinch/Hulk hybrid thing. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

**Contains Spoilers for Taurus Pixie’s story Twelve Days of Chatmas**

Summary: Chat Noir has run into a long streak of poor luck, all in an attempt to give Ladybug the perfect Christmas gift. Little does he know, his first try was already perfect in Ladybug’s eyes. Now it’s her turn to try to navigate around Chat Noir’s failed attempts in her own pursuit to find something equally fantastic for him. **A Switched-POV Unofficial Companion Story to Twelve Days of Chatmas by @thetauruspixie​​**

Rating: General Audience

Chapter Word Count: 1683

Story Total Word Count: 37,973

Status: chapter 5 of 12; complete

**For reals, if you haven’t read Twelve Days of Chatmas yet, read that first so my story doesn’t spoil anything for you. It’s cool. This story will still be here when you get back. ;) **

See below for chapter 5, or find this story over on AO3, on FFN, or on DA.

CHAPTER 5:

It was an exhausting day. It was a draining day. It was one of the worst days of Marinette's life. She was curled up in a ball on her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest as she stared at her corkboard of Adrien pictures. Tears stung her eyes and a hot knot grew in her chest.

“Marinette?” Tikki drifted to her bearer. “Are you okay?”

“Who were they for?” Marinette choked down a sob.

“They?”

“The rings!” She squeezed her eyes shut and curled tighter around her pillow.

The day had started off typical enough. Marinette woke up late for school after a long night of figuring out her gift for Chat Noir. She was reprimanded by both her mother for sleeping in and Miss Bustier for sneaking into class after the tardy bell. She dealt with the normal harassment from Chloe and irritation over her classmates and teachers blindly listening to Lila's lies; everyone but Adrien, of course. Sweet, loyal, handsome, brilliant Adrien.

Marinette had spent so much of that week wondering what to do as a gift for Chat Noir, she didn't realize how little time she had left to pick out Adrien's gift. He was simple though, she had an entire trunk filled with gifts for him. She just needed to sort out which one she wanted to give him this year. It helped get her through the day to imagine the beaming smile on Adrien's face as he opened up her present. He may just fall in love with her then and there if she picked out the perfect one to give him next week. She fantasized about that during her walk home and through her homework, which, arguably, took longer to accomplish due to said daydreaming.

With her daily duties taken care of, she knelt by her trunk, opened it up, started pulling out various sweaters and hats and mittens, and then her phone buzzed. An akuma was attacking the west end of Paris. Grumbling about the interruption, Marinette quickly transformed and headed towards the Champs-Élysées.

She heard the screaming first, and then had to quickly dodge a car flung through the air. Adjusting her trajectory, Ladybug swung so she was on a roof behind the akumatized villain. It was a hulking man nearly four meters tall. He was covered head to toe in green fur, and his upper body was built like a barrel of muscle. Shreds of a Victorian-era caroling costume hung off his shoulders and his pants were ripped where his legs clearly grew upon getting his powers.

“No Christmas!” the villain yelled as he stripped lights from a nearby storefront, and used them as a whip to lasso a decorated tree. With a big yank, he pulled the spruce from the ground, and he hurled it towards a crowd of shoppers trying to escape.

Ladybug sprung into action and lassoed the tree herself, swinging it away from the civilians and into a brick wall.

“Ladybug!” A chorus of people cheered as they pointed towards her. She quickly swung down to the sidewalk and shooed them away.

The green monster roared at her, picked up a plastic Santa statue, and hurled it at Ladybug. She easily blocked it with her yo-yo, then skirted behind the villain again. Sliding between his massive legs, she effortlessly tangled the villain up in her yo-yo and hurled him into an empty store. Slamming the door shut, she blocked it with one of the uprooted trees.

“Hopefully that will slow you down for a minute.” She looked up and down the street for more shoppers evacuating. There was chaos. The streets were already flooded with Parisians out shopping for Christmas, but hoards of tourists were there too. It would certainly be a hard battle to keep everyone safe while the villain raged in such a crowded location. “Where are you, Chat Noir?”

She checked her yo-yo, and once again there weren't any messages. She also didn't see him on her map. He wasn't powered up yet. She'd have to do the evacuation on her own. Sprinting up and down the street, she checked each storefront to make sure they were empty. Behind her, she heard the akuma roar again as he burst through the door.

That didn't last nearly as long as I would have hoped. Ladybug silently cursed. She glanced past her shoulder and saw the monster again tearing lights off the storefronts and destroying every last Christmas decoration. He barely moved from the empty store he had crashed out of. This could work, Ladybug thought. If he's that distracted by all the decorations, he might stay up where it's evacuated. I just need to watch for- She ducked under another Christmas tree aimlessly thrown down the street.

She checked the next half-dozen stores from each side of the street. They were either already clear or the last citizens were just leaving as she reached them.

Then she saw him.

Ladybug had caught up with the tail end of the escaping mob, and they stampeded past a blonde boy coming out of a jewelry store. As the crowd cleared the storefront, the boy was on his hands and knees, and looking quite distraught. Ladybug instantly recognized the swoop of his blonde locks, the slight rosy blush on his milky cheeks, and the blue knitted scarf wrapped around his neck.

“A-Adrien?” Ladybug swung across the street and landed beside him. She quickly glanced back to see how far away the villain was. They were safe, but she wasn't sure for how long. “A-are you alright?”

“L-Ladybug?” Adrien jumped a little as he noticed her beside him.

“Are you hurt?” He had been nearly trampled by that crowd, and he was on the ground now. She quickly circled him as she scanned for any injuries. Her cheeks warmed as she grew nervous that she wasn't able to protect him, and now he was hurt, and he'd hate her forever, and never consider her a hero again, and she'd forever lose her chance with him – not like she had a chance with him as Ladybug anyway since he could never know who she was, but-

“N-no, I'm fine.”

She let out a long sigh and rested a hand on her chest to try to will her heart to calm down. “What are you doing here? You need to find somewhere safe right away. There's an akuma on the loose!”

“I-” His eyes dropped to his closed left hand, and then to the sidewalk.

Ladybug's gaze followed Adrien's. There were four golden rings scattered on the ground in front of him. One had an emerald with three rubies in a tiny triangle on either side. Another had small diamonds encrusting one side, and onyx on the other in an almost yin-yang pattern where they met at the middle. A third had grains of garnet and emerald embedded in the band in an alternating pattern with obsidian in between each gemstone. The fourth ring had garnet and onyx lining the golden band in an almost ladybug-like pattern. The thought made her blush a little as she quickly scooped them up and passed them over to Adrien.

He opened his hand to accept the rings, and the one he was already holding had a large princess-cut ruby in the center, surrounded by a frame of emeralds. It must have been unbelievably expensive, and it almost looked like an engagement ring. Ladybug's cheeks burned a bit hotter, and her eyes stung slightly.

“What pretty rings.” She forced a small smile as she swallowed down the knot in her throat. I wish they were for me. She choked down another sob and forced her smile to grow as she handed the other four rings over. This person must be very important to him to spend so much.

“Oh...” Adrien let the word hang in the thick air between them. “Yeah...” He wouldn't look her in the eyes as he pulled the hand filled with rings close to his chest.

“Anyway!” Ladybug refocused. It didn't matter who those rings were for. What mattered was that there was a rampaging akuma just up the street, and Adrien was still in danger. “You need to get somewhere safe. Chat Noir and I will handle this.”

“Yeah.” Adrien shifted awkwardly to his feet as he put the rings and their respective boxes back into the bag from the jeweler.

Giving Adrien one last smile, she sprinted towards the villain; hoping her love would be alright, and that Chat Noir would show up to help soon.

Her partner did indeed show up just as she reached the rampaging akuma, and they were able to stop him not long after. It was a hard battle though; both her and Chat Noir either dodged a lot of heavy things hurled at them, or were tossed around themselves. The suit protected Ladybug from injury, but it was still exhausting work. It didn't help that Chat Noir still didn't seem himself, but Ladybug had her own problems. She just didn't have the energy to try to talk to him about the birds from the night before, or the hens the day before that. They barely had the time left in their transformations anyway, so they had a halfhearted fist bump and went their separate ways.

The second Ladybug got home she dropped onto her bed in a flop, and grabbed hold of her pillow to muffle her sobs as her superhero costume vanished.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Tikki, weak but still filled with concern, drifted closer to her bearer.

Above Marinette the sky darkened, and below her the gifts to Adrien were forgotten across her floor. It wouldn't matter anyway. Nothing she'd give him could possibly turn his eye away from a woman he cared for so deeply he bought her five gorgeous and expensive looking rings.

Marinette cried herself to sleep, and dreamt of standing outside a cathedral during Adrien's wedding to a mysterious faceless woman.

Thank you for reading. Read Next Chapter

Read from the beginning: Chapter 1

Please let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[tuesdayx]

So I thought it would be fun to do a song-by-song breakdown of our latest album Essential.

Essential started as some rough demos designated for a side project in late 2019, which then became our largest album to date in terms of song selection. Many of the themes deal with learning to cope with the changing world thanks to Covid, with a perspective of someone who had to keep working at an "essential" job with no option of self-quarantine. I was happy to continue working and being able to pay my bills over the past year, but there was always elements of stress, fear, and tension lingering over myself and everyone else in my position.

So here we go; starting from the top let's look at the Songs of Tuesday X's 6th album Essential.

1. Jet Fuel Can't Melt Steel Beams: the title was a reference to the 9/11 conspiracy memes, which as stated in the opening lines, "has nothing to do with this song." Written in January of 2020 before Covid had made any significant impact in the US, the song touches on many themes which happened to occur throughout the year, such as [another] Californian forest fire (Australia too), new diseases (Covid), a riot (the BLM movement over the summer, which I will state everything that movement has been fighting for is 100% justified and the United States is in desperate need of Police reform, as does our political system which has remained inherently racist to this day.), Civil War (and exaggeration for sure, but the civil unrest and political division in our country will soon split us apart further), more corporate giants(companies like Amazon profited more from this Pandemic than ever before and have helped further the gap between the American working class and the top 1%). Favorite line: "I won't get philosophical, I only wanted your attention."

2. The Only Difference Between You and Me is a Sense of Apathy and Your Brand New Nikes: This song is a blithing criticism of the American political system. Our two party system has left Americans with a choice between "the lesser of two evils" and allows politicians with no true interest in our needs to rise to power. The use of 3rd parties as an alternative is a overly simple compromise that would only just begin to alleviate the problems created in our political system. Both of our main parties are considered conservative parties to the rest of the world, and any progressive measures that would benefit society and reduce the effects of climate change are considered radical and preposterous by politicians with financial stakes in our crooked system where corporatations hold control and the people are treated as fuel for an otherwise worthless currency. Favorite line: "Listen to the radio, they played my favorite song. Now I'm bored and wanting more."

3. Blame it on the Elves: the title is a reference to an episode of the Podcast "Lore" by Aaron Menke (i can't recall which episode, but you should check it out anyway because it's great listen.) An instrumental interlude inspired by ragtime music of the 1920-30's, with an edge of course.

4. Class of Dropouts: This song was written when I was 16 during my sophomore year of high school and was originally featured on my now unavailable album "trees" before adopting the Tuesday X monicker. I brought it back 6 years later because I loved how raw and punk it was. The lyrics are dorky but I decided to leave them as is, it's a cool track for high school stoners to blare and let out their teen angst. Favorite line: "Walking in on my friends fucking."

5. Polaroids on My Bulletin Board: This is a song about growing up. As a 22 year old (now 23) who decided not to go to college straight out of high school, I felt isolated from my peers in a way. By going into the workfield right away I sometimes feel like I skipped a few years and missed out on a lot of opportunities. I regret not leaving my hometown sooner than I did and chasing my dreams of being a touring musician in a band. More often than not I reminisce of my youth playing shows and getting into trouble, as I now feel old and out of place in a scene I grew up in. Favorite line: "I know what it's like to be alive, I know what it's like to live a lie."

6. Labradoodle Underpass: Going back on the theme of growing up, this is about my recent experience with shows as an adult. When I was a teenager I felt ambitious and ready for anything, and I would drop literally everything to go to the nearest show. As an adult I feel introverted and constantly anxious about the world around me. I've missed out on a lot of great shows due to my own self doubt's and anxiety. Now that shows have been canceled for over a year I feel even more regret by not appreciating them more while I could. Favorite line: "23 years and a lingering fear that anything could happen, why am I here?"

7. Some Shit: This was me trying to be modest mouse lol jangly guitars and half talking/half singing vocals describing the world around me. I guess in a way it was an exercise in writing character description and setting, but otherwise it's just a chill track that almost feels aimless at parts. Favorite Line: "it's just some shit I learned from a friend. Just some shit I learned when I was trying to prepare."

8: Woe is the World: On the album this is a chorus snippet that barely a minute long (the full version is available as a bonus track on bandcamp, and it was actually a demo that turned out better than the final version.) I originally wrote this song when I was 15 with a different set of lyrics, but I came back to it while writing this album and re-wrote it to reflect my mental state and the world around me. Overall, just another melancholy track in a sea of melancholy songs. Favorite line: "you've never felt more alone than you do now, was everything worth it in the end?"

9. Then Why Was it Named Gideon?: the title is a reference to a line in Scott Pilgrim's Finest Hour (my favorite series) and like the first track on this album doesn't have much to do with the song. "Gideon" is a simple love song, talking again about how growing up sucks but having the right person by your side can make all the shitty times worth it in the end. Favorite line: "it's time to move on, you're taking too long."

10. I am Here, I'm Looking at Her, and She is Beautiful: This song is entirely about the book "Perks of Being a Wallflower". That's it. Nothing else, let's move on. Favorite line: "Over Christmas I read them a poem about a brown paper bag and the boy who wrote it."

11. Try to Be a Filter, Not a Sponge: Like the previous song, this one is also mostly about "Perks of Being a Wallflower", but with elements of my own experience with toxic relationships. I like to think of it as the character Charlie's experience with Mary Elizabeth overall though. Favorite line: "She called my favorite book washed out trash, said I have no taste and I'm still too sad."

12. Lavender Spray Bottle: This instrumental dates back to 2017. I recorded the guitar part as a demo on my phone and forgot about it. Over time I forgot how to play the guitar part, so I used the demo as a basis and layered everything else on top of it. The title is a reference to a bottle of water with lavender essential oils mixed in that my ex used to fend away spiders in the house we lived in at the time.

13. Hindsight is 2020: I will admit, this is my favorite song on the whole album and was actually the last to be written and recorded. With a simple guitar part and layers of vocals, this song is a direct reflection of life during the peak of the pandemic. With curfews in place and rising case counts, I had to learn to cope with life at home during my late nights away from work. My partner was quarantined during this time and I reflected on the mental strain this put on her. Favorite line: "Don't go to work, you need the money but you're not happy when you're there. Sometimes life is so unfair."

14. I Don't Know How to Deal With Serious Emotions Without Turning Them into a Fucking Joke: the title came from a meme I found on my phone from high school. The song itself was about my own inability to handle serious emotions without coming off as sarcastic. In both the music and lyrics, the song starts as a simple confession before exploding into raw chaos. Favorite line: "it's so hard. I'm so scared, what have I become?"

15. Say Hello to My Little Friend: the last instrumental on this album. A short haunting tune that reflects the final two tracks. The title is probably a reference to Rambo or something, but I never watched it and I thought it fit the feeling of this song.

16. Minneapolis: What became one of the most emotional tracks on this song actually began as a joke. My partner was snap chatting a friend one night and they asked me to write them a song on the spot. So I improvised the first two verses and chorus of this song, referencing her going to school there at the time. I found I actually liked what I had written however, so I refined the track and changed it from a sassy country song into a melancholic lament of my experience in the twin cities and southern Minnesota. Favorite line: "I miss Camp Snoopy, and Paul Bunyon's log flume ride that went around the whole damn mall."

17. Before the Sunrise: the final song on the album is an intimate look at my relationship with my partner. Through past experiences i have become riddled with self doubt and always looking at improving myself as a person. With hopes that one day I'll be the person I'd like to be for mine and their sake, it's an optimistic tribute to my best friend. Favorite line: "the cycle ends until the sun rises again, you're my best friend."

Thank you all so much! Check out Essential and our other music on Bandcamp, Spotify, Apple, and other places! I hope you all enjoyed this personal look at these songs that got me through the worst parts of 2020.

[lezliefaithwade]

A Breath of Fresh Air

The summer after my first year of theatre school, I was sleeping on the living room floor of my cousin's apartment in Toronto, trying to figure out what to do with my life. My cousin had been an actor before he became a quadriplegic in a car accident, and as I unadvisedly bemoaned my unemployment status, he said something like, "Seriously? You're complaining about your life? Don't make me burst a colostomy bag." He was right, of course. I wasn't in a wheelchair, though I did have a stepmother who had rendered me homeless because of her dislike for me. She was always saying things like, "Your hair can't be as ugly as that hat you're wearing." Or simply refusing to invite me to things like Christmas dinner. I always admired people with families. My boyfriend at the time was one of five kids who were always doing things together. Their house was always full of noise and activities. Even as a shiksa, I felt more at home there than with my stepbrothers and sisters, who never lost an opportunity to point out that I was weird. I wanted to stand up to them, but not wanting to cause my father any grief, I held my tongue and sought refuge elsewhere. It occurred to me that perhaps I was using the theatre as an opportunity to say things through characters that I couldn't find the courage to express myself.

The Toronto Star was still open on the kitchen table, and I rummage through the Want Ads, that dirty part of the newspaper near the back where complete strangers will soon become complete assholes in your life by forcing you to work menial jobs in humiliating uniforms for minimum wage.

"Find anything?" my cousin called from the bedroom, where two attendants helped wash and dress him.

"Social services are advertising for camp councilors to work with emotionally challenged kids."

"Oh yeah," He said. "That might suit you."

I'm not sure I knew what he meant but, I was beginning to think I'd outgrown my welcome. My cousin probably would have encouraged me to join the circus if the option had been available. Knowing my living room days were numbered, I thought it best to make an effort and apply.

I had no experience teaching drama—no experience working with kids and no experience going to or working at a camp. Despite all that, I was hired. It's worth noting that it's probably not a good sign if you get a job with no qualifications whatsoever.

My official position was Drama Councillor, and I prided myself that with only a year and half of theatre training behind me, I was well equipped to help others benefit from the wealth of my experience. I imagined myself, Maria Von Trapp, teaching children how to sing while they looked at me adoringly. Somehow, I conveniently blocked out the rebellious early stages she experienced and skipped straight to the good parts. Also, I might add, forgetting about the Nazis and having to climb over a mountain. Still, visions of me biking around camp with a group of happy campers behind me filled me with a sense of self-satisfaction.

As I packed my knapsack with deet and a secret stash of Twinkies, I thought of how only three weeks earlier I'd been in New York walking through Central Park and savoring Cappuccinos at outdoor cafés on Columbus. Now, here I was, ready for something different. The wilderness, I imagined, would be a welcome change—fresh air and loons instead of smog and sirens. I thought smugly about my classmates sweating behind visors at take-out windows shoveling fries into cardboard cups or wrapping sandwiches in tinfoil. Thumbs up to adventure, I told myself. The fact that I'd never once in my life enjoyed the great outdoors didn't factor into my mind. All of this changed with each accumulated minute of the 391 Kilometer drive north.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the compound. Overcast, sullen, it was a place so secluded you'd need flares to find it. It had that distinct aura of someplace time forgot. A place left behind and neglected. In the brochure, the sun was shining, flowers filled the meadow, and you could practically hear laughter floating off the page. What I was looking at bore more of a resemblance to a situation in a Stephen King novel where camp councilors discover a pack of hungry teenage zombies have lured them to a seemingly idyllic retreat. Situated right in the heart of black fly country, I spent most of my days swatting insects so big they seem Jurassic.

During our orientation, child care workers warned us that children with mental health needs tend to run away - a lot and to keep strict attendance records and all eyes on them at all times. "These kids are resourceful and clever," they cautioned. I couldn't imagine being so determined you'd risk your life by escaping through the woods that surrounded us, but then again, I'd never been around children who weren't allowed cutlery before either

I shared my cabin with three other women with who I had absolutely nothing in common. Delia, a humorless 27-year-old cooking instructor who answered every question with a monosyllabic grunt, Jennifer, a 26-year old tennis instructor with massive blond ringlets who talked so quickly she sounded like a record on high speed, and an older aboriginal woman named Sunny who made us all dream catchers and offered advice about how to heal ourselves on days when we'd feel spent. "Remember, these kids need us," she said while purifying our cabin with sage. As I glanced around my assigned bunk, taking in the spider webs and loose floorboards, I had that sinking feeling that comes when you know you've made a terrible mistake. Before long, I was eating copious amounts of peanut butter on stale bagels amid a never-ending supply of starch. I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to feed children with challenges like anxiety, depression, hyperactivity, and eating disorders copious amounts of sugar and carbs. It certainly did nothing to help them or me.

On the first day of class, I sat everyone in a circle. "Welcome to drama class," I said with a smile. "Let's begin by sharing with everyone a little bit about ourselves. Anything at all you'd like us to know?" A hand went up.

"I'm Tracy, and I hate my stupid ass brother. He can go straight to hell."

"Okay," I said, "That's a start. Who's next?"

Another hand. "I'm Jonathan, and this place sucks so much I wish it would burn to the ground!"

"Fair enough. Anyone else?"

"I'm Jo. I'm schizophrenic. So sometimes I'm Rachel and Julia. You'll know the difference because Rachel has a British dialect, and Julia talks slang."

"O-kay." I glanced at the social workers who sat on the edge of the room and looked at me with an expression that basically said, "We can't wait to see what you do next."

"Let's write a play," I suggested. "Write anything you want. Once you're happy with the work, I'll shape it into a cohesive piece that we'll rehearse and then present at the end of the season talent showcase."

The kids liked this idea. The showcase was a big deal. It was an opportunity for them to blow off some steam and express themselves to friends and family in a creative way. My only stipulation was not to use profanity. As the weeks passed, I was impressed with how well they all threw themselves into this project—all except Eric, the oldest boy in my 12 to 15-year-olds. Eric often wandered around the rehearsal space, unfocused and sullen.

"Any ideas for your piece?" I ask, checking in to see if I could help.

"I'm thinking," he'd say and then pace.

With three weeks left in the summer, I took my well-deserved week off to decompress. My boyfriend came up from Toronto and drove me to his parent's house at Post and Bayview, where caterers were preparing the tennis courts for an outdoor party. I walked into his mother's living room, and she gasped. "What happened to you?"

I didn't blame her. I hadn't spent much time looking at a mirror the past four weeks, but one glance at the large one in their bathroom told the full story. My hair was ratty; I had scabs on my knees, bruises on my arms and legs, and I was sunburnt. I was wearing a vintage skirt and blouse that was probably more Value Village than vintage and a pair of worn, scuffed purple moccasins; in essence, I was wearing slippers on my feet.

"Please take her to the mall and at least buy her a pair of shoes," his mother said, handing me her credit card and then rushing off to make sure the stuffed alligator would float in the pool. That week I ate my way through rugelach, hamantaschen, brisket, and bagels while his family watched me with awe and disgust.

Back at camp, the smell of burning insect repellent greeted me along with the news that the sailing and tennis instructors were sacked for disorderly conduct. Never mind, I had renewed energy and a sense of purpose. There were costumes and props to make. Sound and lighting effects to create. And we needed to rehearse. It was only a tiny stage somewhere on a remote camp in Northern Ontario, but the excitement was palpable. I was excited. This would be the best talent show ever, and my kids were going to blow the socks off everyone there!!!

"Eric," I said, "How's your piece coming along?"

"I finished it," he mentioned casually

"That's great. Can I see it?"

"I want to surprise you. You're going to love it, though. I promise."

I patted myself on the back. Eric had a breakthrough. All my encouragement and patience had paid off. Perhaps I'd helped him have a developmental breakthrough.

"Can you tell me what it's about?" I asked.

"The Beatles."

"Great. Okay," and left it at that.

Talent Night arrived along with parents and family friends. The lights dimmed, the kids performed, and the audience enthusiastically applauded as each "Mighty Mite" or "Spirit of Paradise" breezed across the stage, acting out skits about fairies and monsters and assorted escapades. Finally, it was Eric's turn. Out he came, looking serious and theatrical. He cleared his throat and addressed the audience.

"This is called, The Beatles Last Recording Session. By, Me."

Three of his closest camp friends filed out and took a space on the stage. The audience was silent.

There was a dramatic pause, then the piece began.

"Fuck you, Ringo,"

"Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck you, George."

"Well fuck you, John."

Then they bowed and left the stage.

Personally, I thought it was kind of brilliant. Needless to say, I wasn't showered with accolades about my teaching methods or the effect I had on kids. I left there having no catharsis about mental health except that giving people the opportunity to express themselves without censor is probably a lot healthier than insisting they stay quiet. I admired the honesty displayed in the kid's work. If only, I thought to myself, I could be half as brave. Wasn't that what I was spending time and money learning how to do?

A week after being home, I found myself packing, once more, for school in New York. Our term letters had arrived with instructions on where to buy character shoes, leotards, copies of The Children's Hour, and Death of a Salesman. The camp already felt like it was 391 kilometers away - soon to be 659. My father drove me to the train station with my stepmother beside him; she was there, no doubt, to ensure I boarded.

"You going to be okay?" my father asked, giving me a hug and slipping a $50 bill into my pocket.

"She'll be fine." Elsie chimed in. "You don't have to worry about her. Let's go."

But I wanted my father to worry about me. Not all the time and to the exclusion of all else, but certainly the appropriate fatherly amount.

As I settled myself on the train, I watched my stepmother pull from father from the platform to the car and thought of Eric's brilliant play. Under my breath, I whispered the immortal words of the Beatles, "Fuck you."

#stepmother #mental health #children #young people #summer camp

[canumoveurseatup-no]

dark room

summary: grow through what you go through.

(please read warnings and author’s note before continuing to read)

wc: 10.5k

pairings: dad!sam x black!reader

warnings: this gets real okay... it contains drug use, alcohol abuse, mental illness, parental abuse, mentions of suicide- it’s dark, it’s raw, it’s real so please read with caution. reader has fluid sexuality, light smut

a/n: my 20th birthday passed months ago (this was supposed to be out on my birthday, back in august) and i know that doesn’t seem like a big deal to other people but it’s a big deal to me, especially coming from someone who has tried to end their lives multiple times, someone who had battled mental illness for years, someone who used substances to numb any sort of pain. It’s been a long time coming. And I’m still fighting every single day but I am here so this is mainly for me but also for anyone who is struggling with anything in their lives. Keep. Pushing.

———————

You wanted to feel like you were dancing on the ceiling. You wanted to do your own little lonely dance like no one was watching. The room was hot, the smell stale, hair sticking to your forehead, nothing was real. You were a mere atom prancing across a screen of color. You didn’t notice the phones out recording you while you experienced one of the best trips of your life. They weren’t making fun of you, they were cheering you on but their cheers fell on deaf ears as it felt like you had cotton stuffed in your own.

You fell in a chair, seeing various pills splayed out on the table. So many to choose from, they were so pretty but then the sight of little white lines caught your attention, you weighed your options. You had enough nose candy before you even got here. You pre-gamed so hard you came to the party two hours late from falling out.

You wanted to touch the ends of the universe so you snatched another tab off the table and pressed it on your tongue like a fruit roll up with tongue tattoos on it. The dancing bodies in front of you distorted as you grabbed a heavy liquor bottle and stumbled from standing up too fast... or maybe it was the drugs? You felt your face smile and your body go numb as you fell back on a bunch of clouds.

You found a guy eyeing you from the other side of the room or at least it seemed like it, his face was an absolute blur. But soon he was right in front of you and you could see specs of yellow in his brown irises. They were almost like sunflowers.

“Wanna have a good time?,” he opens the palm of his hands and you see a pretty blue pill.

“What’s it do?,” you don’t notice the slurring, you don’t notice the left side of your body going numb... you stopped breathing for a minute and as fearsome as it sounds... you welcomed it. It’s all you’ve been craving since you were nine years old... to just. stop. breathing. But your chest opened up again, hugging the air tight in its lungs to keep your body alive.

“However you’re feeling now? Multiply that times ten... it makes you feel like your third eye is opening. You can taste colors, see tastes... it’s unreal,”

“How much for it?,” the words flew past your lips faster than your mind could understand.

“It’s on me,”

—————

You don’t remember how you made it home, maybe you walked again- maybe you made the right choice and called an Uber.

You only remember mumbling a “bye, daddy” to the guy who gave you the blue pill, sending you off with more for the future. You felt like God was holding you in his hands and blessing you with the best life right now.

You weren’t aware of your little brother’s door being cracked open and him waiting up for you as you tried to quietly get to the bathroom.

“Oops,” you laughed to yourself. It was a sight your little brother saw often- you didn’t know that, your dad didn’t know that. Keith never knew how to tell anyone he was worried for his sister. He was 12- he didn’t know what was wrong with you. But he didn’t hesitate to scream when he found you in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet with throw up all over yourself.

“Y/N!!,” he tried to shake you awake but your eyes were dull and half lidded, “Y/N stop! Wake up, wake up, wake up!!,” he even slapped you. Nothing worked.

“Dad!! Daaaaddd!,” Keith ran down the hallway to your dad’s room. Sam woke in a frenzy and looked at Keith with worry

“Something’s wrong with Y/N! She won’t wake up!,” the 12 year old sobbed and Sam booked it out of his room to find your body limp on the toilet. Underwear mid thigh, as if you passed out while trying to pull them down to pee. Throw up all in your lap, body dripping with cold sweat.

“Keith, Call 911!”

—————

He always watched you now... he always had appointments set up at the doctors to test your urine but it didn’t stop you from using. There were always ways around passing drug tests. Often times you’d ask a friend to pee in a cup then pour it in a ziploc baggie and hide it in your sports bra to keep it warmed up. You knew how to beat the system.

Pour a little in the toilet so it makes it look like you peed, they always check afterwards. Then pour it in the cup to the line they mark. You ‘pass’ each time.

“You’re coming on the trip,”

“I’ve earned your trust,” your mouth felt dry, the edible you took before 6th period still hasn’t worn off yet and you were trying to keep calm- there’s no way he was going to ruin your high.

“You’ve earned yourself suicide watch and consistent drug tests. My trust for you disappeared when I found you damn near dead and had to watch them hook you up to machines and put you on temporary dialysis amongst other things to save your life,”

He was still bitter. It happened a month ago. He should be over it, you were.

“Fuck you, Dad,” you stormed off to your room and slammed the door

“Don’t you talk to me like that in my house!,” he yelled from the other side of your door. He should have taken it off the hinges like he planned.

You didn’t want to go on some stupid resort. Something about channeling your inner peace and looking at the bigger picture. Everyone was going, even his old team members, a family you didn’t feel a part of, he thought it’d be a good idea to surround yourself with good company.

You scream out and begin throwing clothes into a bag knowing he wasn’t letting up.

You see the glimmer of a small plastic baggy under your mattress and pull it out, seeing an array of candy. Maybe you could survive this trip?

You stuff the baggy in a pair of socks and smile, hoping to get a sense of familiarity.

You were gonna survive this trip.

—————

You shouldn’t have worn shorts today. That stupid health class intern saw the marks on your thigh and told the school nurse and now your found yourself in the car with your dad yelling at you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you not realize you have a main artery in your thigh! Had you gone deep enough you would have been gone, Y/N! What the fuck is wrong with you,”

You figured if a parent found their 11 year old was cutting themselves they’d do something other than yell... they’d do something other than tell the entire family and have them call at you just to yell at you as well.

“Nothing in life is that bad for you to do that to yourself!!,”

“That’s stupid, Y/N! Who in their right mind would do that to themselves?!,”

You heard it all. You cried when you got home, and hugged your little brother, not knowing if you’d ever get the chance to again because you were on the verge of ending it all. 11 years old... wanting to end it... you weren’t sure what was wrong with you. You just woke up every day hating yourself, woke up everyday wondering what life would be like for your family had you not been born.

Your older sister didn’t know how to help.. and your little brother was sure he was going to lose his sister.

You believed you were a by-product of a bad relationship. So your self-hatred started young. Watching your parents argue everyday- watching your mom cry because your dad kicked all of you out on Christmas Eve and you had to stay with your grandparents... watching the ugly divorce and how he became an alcoholic and she became emotionally unavailable.. even having to talk to the cops because your dad left bruises on your legs, from beating you because you were calling out for him due to being afraid to sleep in your own room when you usually sleep in his...

But he had a lady friend over that night....

The meds the psychiatrist put you on gave you chest pains... you went from using a pair scissors to hurt yourself to watching YouTube videos on how to get a blade out of a shaving razor. You skipped meals just to be a little skinnier like everyone else in your family.

You wrote notes.. you wore black sweatshirts, even in the prime of summer, to cover your arms when you ran out of space on your thighs and ankles and hips. You were a mess and no one came close to understanding. You don’t know how or why you turned out this way.

You felt like your mom hated you, you felt like your dad wasn’t your dad, like he was just there... you were stuck in a place where you felt like you didn’t belong and it made your heart skip beats. It had you crying almost every night.

And everyday you struggled. Waiting for the day that you snap and off yourself.

————-

“Y/N! Y/N!,” you felt your sister, Savannah, nudge you in your rib cage, “Uncle Buck was talking to you, snap out of it,”

You felt everyone hug you and it felt unfamiliar. You felt out of place. All these bright green trees looked fake- the air was too clean- the water in the cups too pure.

You craved to be surrounded by drugged, dancing bodies, feeling the beat of the music vibrating every single nerve in your body. You wanted to feel like you were on the edge of death just to feel alive. You wanted to be surrounded by guys and girls who gave you the slightest bit of attention and took you home. You wanted to feel loved even if it were for a few hours out of the night.

You didn’t want to be here- you wanted to feel the burn of alcohol run down your throat. You wanted to see auras around everyone as you blinked. You wanted to hide in the bathroom and stumble against the walls, laughing as you struggled to get your pants down to pee. You wanted to numb every single thought, you wanted to get so blacked out you couldn’t remember anything that ha-

“Y/N, lets go unpack,” Natasha’s hand grasped around yours and you let her drag you to one of the resort rooms. Your bag tight around your shoulder, you looked around the room and hated to be in it. It was too bright, too colorful... you wanted to be in a dark room under a guy as he choked you out and you felt him deep in your stomach. You wanted to be in a dark room, feeling a someone’s lips on you, replicating what you expect love to be like.

Everything was too fucking bright... too bright compared to the dark rooms you’d be in at night, intoxicated, crying, while getting your brains fucked out because you just wanted to feel affection... even if it was fake.

“How have you been feeling?” She sits on the bed as you stand at the door, frowning at everything in the room, “You can be honest with me- I won’t tell Sam. I know it’s hard not having anyone to talk to-,”

“Is there a town close by?,” you snap your eyes towards her. It might be a dumb question but you zoned out the whole three hour ride here.

“Ugh yeah, about 20 minutes out, why?”

“C-can you get me? S-something? I- I need to... I just need to ebb the feelings away,”

“I want to help you, b-but I can’t do that for you,” she knew what you meant but no way in hell would she advocate for you continuing to tear yourself down.

“So why lie and say I can be honest if you can’t give me the one thing I need?!,” you felt the walls closing in. You focused too much on one thing and you found yourself stumbling.

“Y/N, it’s okay, I’m here, calm down, calm down,”

“Get out!!,” you felt your hands shaking, you had no control over anything, “I want to be alone! Get the fuck out!,”

“I can’t leave you alone like this!,”

You take your bag and storm off to the bathroom to lock the door. You wasted no time in digging in the bag for the sock with the little baggy of pills, popping three in your mouth and swallowing them dry. You don’t remember what kind of drug it was... you were just hoping it made you feel good.

—————

You were on autopilot. You forgot how to walk but your muscle memory helped propel you to the dining hall and there they had a sermon about trusting life’s forces and welcoming traumas to push through triggering times. You felt like it was a bunch of bull crap but you were interested because you were high off your ass.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,”

Your dad eyed you closely but worried less when he actually saw you head to the bathroom.

You paced the bathroom until a girl walked in and eyed you closely.

“Your family drag you here too?,” she eyed you up and down. She knew your behavior all too well. You were on the verge of a withdrawal break down.

“You from around here?,” you wanted to get out of here. You wanted to have fun, you wanted to get hammered.

“Yeah why?,”

“Know any parties? Like- with tons of alcohol a-and stuff? I can’t sit around here and listen to this circle of life bullshit! I. Need. Sweat and hookups and to not remember anything,” you rambled and rambled until the girl calmed you down.

“Dude, chill out,” she placed her hands on your shoulder and shook you to calm you down, “Meet me by the ugly ass evergreen tree by the entrance- midnight. I’m about to lose my cool in this place too,”

She could really be a murderer, you don’t know this girl, nor a name, nothing. But it was worth a try. Not like you’d end up being best friends.

—————

It was easy. Savannah was out cold after the dinner- she loved to eat but, it never stuck. You wish you were like that but no... it stuck everywhere, it always did.

Your dad did his last check on you at 10 so it was easy to leave. The girl waited for you in her little Prius and you went about your way.

“I’m Eve by the way,”

“Y/N,”

You didn’t want to converse. You wanted chemicals coursing through your veins to shut off every single thought, every voice, every vision in your head.

“So what’s your story? You know this resort- It’s supposed to be some pseudoscience rehab,”

“Listen, Eve,” you sighed, “I’m not one for talking, now, get some alcohol in me and then you can get in my head, hell maybe even my pants, but until then, I don’t like to talk,”

“My parents found me with a needle in my arm,” she admitted, you cursed under your breath and realized she was gonna ramble anyway. But maybe this was good for her, someone her age, someone she could relate to, “It was laced but... God it was something great and I... I never wanted it to end,” she talked as if it was a dream.

“They told me I flatlined a couple times- I couldn’t tell though but... maybe I did because I felt like I was in heaven,”

She kept talking about her experiences until you pulled up to a house with a bunch of cars out front, you didn’t even wait for her to fully stop the car before jumping out and running inside.

You saw a bunch of tangled, kissing bodies, slumped, passed out bodies, people candy flipping, people snorting lines. You weren’t sure which poison to pick.

You walked up to a girl passing small baggies around, “What’s this?,”

“Its a new street drug called angel wings, wanna try it?,”

“Will it make me feel better than lsd?,”

“Way better, dude,”

“How much can 50 bucks buy?,”

“2 baggies. Five pills come in each,”

You slapped the fifty in her hands and snatched two from her, damn near ripping one of the baggies open, to pop a single periwinkle pill in your mouth and snatching someone’s cup to swallow it down. You spotted Eve looking around for you and rushed over to her, grabbing her hand.

“Wanna dance?,”

“Did you take something already?,”

“Yeah man, you wanted to talk? I’m drugged up enough to talk,”

————

Not much talking happened. You felt yourself crying until she held your face to wipe the tears away and you found yourself in her lap, kissing her with all your might.

“Y/N you don’t want to slow down? We don’t have to do this,”

You took almost a whole baggy of angel wings and felt like you were flying, every single touch she placed on your body made the hairs on your skin stand up.

“Wanna forget, everything,” you slurred, “y-you don’t have to because... someone else will but... I trust you- to take care of me,”

Eve felt her heart swell at your words. She squeezed your thighs in her hands. Your skin was soft just like her ex’s. The one Eve lost due to her addiction driving her away. You gave her a sense of familiarity, so she kissed you back with just as much urgency. Eve had her own drug of choice running through her own bloodstream and every time you touched her had her body vibrating with tingles. She flipped you over and removed any piece of clothing that got in her way.

“Love me...,” you pleaded, your eyes found hers in the dark room. The dark room you’ve been craving just so no one could see you, they can feel you and maybe see your silhouette but the can’t see... you. You felt tears come to your eyes and you were thankful she couldn’t really see them.

“Even though it’s fake.. just... just love me how you would love someone else,”

Teeth clashed, toes curled, muscles tensed, backs arched, it was invigorating. It might have been the drugs, it might have been the fact that Eve seemed to know you like her favorite song. The both of your fingers were soaked and sticky. Skin bruised with love bites and dented with nail impressions. Throats raw from moaning and begging.

You were close and once you hit the big O, you understood the meaning behind the drug name. You heard the beating of wings and saw the bright light. You were an angel ascending and the gates of heaven opened for you just as you let out that final scream of Eve’s name. Eve... first of God’s creation.

You felt her lips on your cheek as she came with you, she held you tight and you stared up at the ceiling, letting your body tremors calm as your mind shut down with the rest of you.

—————

Eve sobered up but you made sure to drink half a bottle of cheap scotch before heading back to face the wrath of your dad.

You saw the big ugly evergreen and grumbled to yourself. Eve held your hand the whole drive and you cringed at any contact. You felt bad that you felt repulsed by her touch but you were too sober for any interaction of the sort.

She parked the car and kissed your cheek, you let her, before getting out and mumbling a thank you and goodbye and heading back in the direction of your room. You slightly stumbled and didn’t notice everyone waiting for you outside. You sniffled and felt your nose hurt, you don’t even remember snorting anything. Don’t remember what pill you popped, what drug you sniffed or what drink you took to the head and that’s how you liked it.

“Where the hell have you been?,”

Your dad’s voice was muffled and all you could do was flutter your eyes at him.

“You’re drugged up right now aren’t you?!”

You simply walked around him in what felt like slow motion, you ignored everyone eyeing you like a helpless puppy and went in the resort room to go to the bathroom.

“Don’t walk away from me, Y/N! What is it going to take for you to get better?! To stop this shit?! You’re killing yourself and don’t even realize it!,”

“Oh I realize it,” you crawl in the bathtub and just sit there. You don’t turn on any water, you just sit there

“I just don’t care enough”

——————

You woke up to a splitting headache, still lying in the tub. You groan as you pick yourself up and head out to the room to see Savannah sitting at the foot of the bed, waiting for you to sober up.

“Why can’t you be normal?,” her eyes were red like she’d been crying, Keith was out cold, he fell asleep waiting for you to wake up, “You’re putting dad through so much. You’re traumatizing Keith. Get a fucking grip and sober up!,” she gritted through her teeth.

“I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t ask to be born, Savannah. I’m sorry I’m not perfect and pretty and popular like you or a kid genius like Keith. I’m sorry I’m a junkie with no future. You were there when I was in therapy. You were there when they diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder a-and bipolar disorder and an addictive personality... you were there... I didn’t ask to be this way. Want me to be normal? Well rewire everything in my fucking head to do it,”

She wiped her face and shook her head, “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you,”

“Well don’t. If I’m not worried you shouldn’t be,” you undress and wrap yourself in a towel for a shower, “I’m too far gone for worrying,”

—————

The next day there were multiple families at one of the sermon meeting thingies and it just so happened to be set up like a fucking AA meeting.

“I’m not doing this bullshit,” It was your turn to speak and you scoff, getting ready to get up and leave until Sav stopped you. You heard everyone else’s story and it didn’t inspire you to get better, it didn't move you. You didn’t give a shit about any of this.

“Do this for me... for Keith,”

You saw Keith practically pleading you and you sat back down to introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N,”

“Welcome, Y/N,” everyone said around the room.

“I’m only here because I was forced to,” You laugh to yourself, “I don’t believe I can get better, I mean I haven’t been anyway. I’ve been faking my drug tests to pass, I’m still using, still drinking,”

You could feel Sam burning holes in the side of your head at your admission.

“Last night I snuck out and got so high I felt like I was flying,” you sighed happily, “I don’t remember when I started using but I uh- it might have been when I was trading my anxiety meds for stronger pills like ecstasy then I jumped to lsd just to run away from my fucked up reality,”

You catch Tony’s eyes, then Steve then Nat and Wanda and Bucky and so on and they all looked at you with fucking pity, it made you sick.

“I don’t believe in this shit okay? I don’t believe in praying away all these fucking chemical imbalances in my head!,” you felt your stomach churn and you felt your eyes sting, “I think I’m okay! I’m fine!,” you yelled, you were angry now, you hated being forced to talk about it.

“I’m doing a lot better with drugs and alcohol than I am without,” you were really trying to convince yourself, you weren’t fooling anyone, “When I’m high I experience the highest of highs! I- I can stay up for days and not need a wink of sleep,” You animated your gestures and looked around in hopes someone would understand.

“I can finally eat without throwing it back up because then I don’t hate myself so fucking much!,” You pound your thighs and felt the shakes come back, “I can finally eat- I can finally give myself the basic things a human needs without hating myself for it” you felt tears pool in your eyes and you hated yourself for crying but you blamed it on the 24 hours of sobriety.

“When I’m high, I don’t feel the extreme lows of my disorders. I finally break out of my shell and meet new people. I talk! I- I meet guys and they show me affection even if it’s for an hour or two and I finally feel loved in my life!,”

You felt Savannah rest her hand on your arm until you jerk away.

“When I’m high- I’m waaaay up and and... and I’m happy! I don’t feel depressed I don’t feel anxious. Being high or drunk shuts up that stupid voice in my head and no one gets it! I am better inebriated! Why can’t you see that!!,” you look to Sam for an answer and all you can see is tears in his eyes.

“And if I die? Hell! It’d be best for everyone! You wouldn’t have to worry anymore! You w-wouldn’t have to waste money on doctors visits just for me to pour someone else’s piss in a fucking cup! No suicide watch! No more not trusting me. No more me faking to be happy.. if this kills me?? Everyone would get what they wanted,”

“What do you think everyone wants, Y/N?,” the woman running the session finally speaks up. Everyone around the room seemed worried for you. You truly didn’t understand why.

You look to Savannah and shake your head.

“Peace,” you shrug and angrily wipe your eyes,

“A normal life”

—————

Once you got back to the room you scream, you screamed so loud and cried and pulled at your roots, you saw yourself in the mirror and threw it off the wall just so you wouldn’t have to look at yourself

“Be normal!,” you screamed at yourself. You felt like a noose was around your neck and the ground beneath you opened up leaving you hanging, feet kicking, desperate for air.

“Why can’t I b-be norm-mal?,” you choked on your words and clawed at your throat. Everything was upside down and spinning.

You didn’t hear the door open, you didn’t know anyone was in the room until your dad picked you up and dragged you outside.

The cool air rushed its way into your nasal passages and your chest opened up with a gasp. You couldn’t see your dad because of the tears, you could barely hear him.

“N-norm-mal... I wanna be normal,” You kept repeating over and over until your body gave out succumbed to your meltdown. Sam hugged your body and rocked you back and forth, despite people watching from their own rooms or passing by.

“We’re gonna get you help,”

“I don’t want he-help. I want it to end! I want black out from all the shit I take a-and not wake up!,”

Sam didn’t know what to do. He knows the trauma he caused you was a part of the reason you’re in this spot and mindset.

“I ruin everything I touch... I... I just..,” out of all the things you could have become- you had to become an addict. At first you didn’t want to acknowledge it because you were functioning just fine, that is until you couldn’t wake up and go about your day without it, you couldn’t do basic daily tasks without popping a perc here and there, until you couldn’t go to sleep without taking something, “I want it to stop but then- then again I don’t b-because I love it- it’s disgusting,”

“It’s going to be okay,”

“But it’s not. Nothing is okay a-and you need to get comfortable with the idea of this killing me because- because it’s going to happen,”

———

“I don’t think drinking is going to help, Sam”

Tony took the cup from Sam and he lost it, “I’m gonna lose my daughter and it’s all my fault,”

Tony didn’t know how to talk about this kind of thing- what can be said?

“It’s no one’s fault, Sam. Life doesn’t always hand us the best cards,”

Sam sniffled and shook his head, lost, frustrated, angry, upset, “What can I do? I’m losing hope,”

“I don’t think you’re going to like my answer but it seems to be her best option,”

Sam looked hopeful- anything will do as long as it gave you a chance to get clean and stay alive

“What is it?,”

———

“Inpatient rehab?!,”

He dropped the bombshell when you all got back home. Dropped it right in front of everyone- maybe he expected you to welcome the idea with open arms but you know what goes on behind those closed doors.

“You’re fucking kidding!,” you had dark circles under your eyes and your lips were dry- your dad had literally kept you on lock down the remainder of the trip, you didn’t even have in person contact with Eve but you did however end up with her number to hit her up whenever.

“You admitted you had a problem, honey. This could be good for you,” Bucky spoke up and you scoffed loudly.

“I’m not going!,” You tugged on the sleeves of your maroon sweater and paced the room, “They’re just going to lock me in a room to the point where I have cold sweats and screaming for more morphine to make the pain, itches and delusions stop!,”

Nat tried to take your hand in hers but you slapped her hand away.

“Y/N!,” Keith stomped his foot and you stared at his small stature. Tears glistening in his eyes, bottom lip quivering, “You need help!! Stop it!,”

You scowled and turned away from your baby brother. Your body trembled as you tried to keep the sobs in.

“When do I go?,”

You weren’t prepared for the answer, but you should have expected it yet your stomach still dropped.

“They’ll be here to pick you up in an hour,”

—————

“Nothing is real,” you mumbled to yourself as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Your face was dull, eyes boring and empty, hair thinning, appetite decreasing. You’d think being here for 60 days so far would do you some good but no...

You barely slept. The first 30 days you cried and screamed to be saved but now you barely even speak. You sat back on your bed just to turn to the wall.

“Wilson- you have visitors,” the nurse came into your room and saw you sitting facing the wall. You were now eligible to have visitors and spend time with family and friends.

“Don’t want visitors,” you cleared your throat and stared at the pale yellow paint on the wall, judging the job of the painters for leaving so many air bubbles in the paint.

“This could do you some good,” your nurse shuts the door behind her and sits with you on your bed, “Your family loves and misses you. Seeing them could motivate you to finish this strong,”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your body shook with an animated belly laugh.

“They fucking locked me away in here,” you frowned, feeling sick to your stomach, “They let those people drag me away and lock me in here. Fuck their love, it’s not real!,”

She sighed and nodded knowing nothing she said would change how you feel. She’s seen it plenty of times before. She’s seen people recover completely yet still resent their families and loved ones for sending them here.

“I’m always able to contact them if you ever change your mind,”

“Fat chance,”

——

The nurse walked to the family area to see the hopeful faces of your family and loved ones. They hadn’t seen you in 60 something days.

“I’m sorry but Y/N isn’t feeling well enough to have visitors,” the nurse plays with her watch band and hates to see the way everyone’s faces drops.

“I want to see my sister!,” Keith tugged on Sam.

“What do you mean she’s not feeling well? She should be feeling at least a little fine in this stage right?,”

She sighs and shakes her head, “The stages in recovery are subjective. Chemical dependency is a hard thing to battle- some days she’s fine and some days like today she’s angry at everything and everyone. As much as I would like for her to see everyone, we can not force her,”

Steve stands up and sets a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “On a day, that she’s feeling better, will you call us?,”

“Of course,”

———

“I know she’s still angry,” Sam sent Savannah and Keith to their rooms while he stayed up with everyone else, “She’s my daughter, I know how she is. She holds grudges a-and she’s still upset,”

“Maybe, but she’ll see this was something she needed,” Bruce tried to make things better but nothing would be better until you were.

“How did things get this bad?,” he slammed his glass on the table and startled everyone.

“I know it’s hard right now but just- just calm down, Sam,” Bucky worried about his friend. He could only imagine how much he was losing his mind and hope on the inside.

“Calm down?,” Sam asked incredulously, “Calm the fuck down?! How can I calm down when I don’t even know if I’m going to see my daughter again, man?,” the legs of the chair screeched against the floor as he stood up in a rush.

Wanda rested a hand on his arm to try and soothe him but he wasn’t having it, “We get it, Sam. We know you’re hurting-,”

“But you don’t!,” he shouted, “You weren’t there when I got a phone call at work from her school nurse saying she had cuts all on the inside of her thigh! You didn’t see it! It looked like fucking grid paper and crosshatching! You weren’t there when I had to sit there in therapy and listen to the way she talks about herself and her life and me- my daughter hates herself and genuinely thinks I hate her and she believes everything that goes wrong is her fault- you didn’t hear the way she talked about herself!,”

For longest time Sam kept quiet about all of this, just wanting to push through it until it got better but it was time he faced the music.

“You weren’t there when she screamed at me, telling me she wished she was never born and I just stood there calling her ungrateful, selfish and dramatic! I didn’t listen to her, I only paid attention to Savannah and Keith and left her feeling unloved. You weren’t there when I caught her sneaking out and she was drunk, you weren’t there when I ignored everything the psychiatrist said about her having an addictive personality and excused all the signs she started to display until I fucking found her blacked out with throw up all over her!,”

He realized he couldn’t just pin it all on you. You were suffering and he hated himself for not realizing it until he was.

No one knew what to say- they were only outsiders, sure they were family but they didn’t get an inside scoop until a few months ago when they got a phone call from Sam saying you were in the hospital. They still didn’t know how to handle it. They could fight bad guys and fucking aliens all day but addiction of a loved one? That was new and left them stumped.

“But damn you were there when she talked about being okay with it if this just killed her. No one wants to hear a loved one say that- especially their child!,” he ran a hand over his face to get rid of the tears, he felt like he didn’t have a right to cry, “I did a lot of wrong as her father and I didn’t even think how my shitty actions contributed to where she is now. Now my daughter could be dying while trying to recover,”

Tony stood up and pulled Sam in a hug, grateful that Sam was seeing everything from a different perspective than his own. He was grateful that Sam was a father trying to right his wrongs and do better.

“It’s not too late,”

————

Your nurse came a few times a week letting you know that you had visitors but you turned them away each time.

The cold sweats happened less, you ate more, your skin started to warm up again and you could finally sleep throughout the night but you still wouldn’t see them. It’d probably bring back a ton of memories that would trigger you to relapse.

You earned yourself time out of the facility but only with supervision. Your nurse, Brielle, accompanied you to trips to the park and lunches.

“Y/N?,”

You looked in the direction of the voice and saw Savannah smiling at seeing you but fear just filled you.

She looked different, she cut her hair and dyed it, her make up was softer and her style was more... indie?

“I’ve missed you so much,” she moved in for a hug but you moved away only to see her smile drop, “Y/N, don’t do that. I’m your sister,”

“I’m recovering from substance abuse not amnesia,” You scowled. You turned to Brielle and asked her to go.

“Why can’t you just be normal?,”

Savannah’s voice echoed in your head and you felt a band around your head tightening yet again, it was your body’s reaction to let you know that you need to get out of the situation or else you’d fall subject to a mental break.

“Brielle, we gotta go,” You scooted out of the booth, past Savannah and tugged Brielle out of the restaurant- forgetting that you were even ordering.

“Y/N please! Talk to me! Talk to Keith, Dad! We miss you,”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!,” you covered your ears and dropped down against the car, feeling dizzy, feeling every swirl around you as you tried to grasp onto reality.

“Grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through, grow through what you go through,”

You repeated the mantra over and over again. It’s a mantra designed specifically for you. Every patient gets their own mantra for when they feel like they’re losing. Yours is to help you remind yourself that nothing is ever easy but that doesn’t mean give up... life and it’s struggles will always be there but that doesn’t mean stunt your growth and efforts. Grow through what you go through.

“That’s right, you’re doing great,” Brielle whispered, she looked at Savannah over her shoulder and shook her head, “I know it’s hard not seeing her but it’s in Y/N’s best interest that she be willing to see you or anyone else on her own terms,”

Savannah hated to see you crouched on the ground, shaking and mumbling to yourself. She mumbled a sorry before rushing over to her car and crying to herself as she drove home and bursting through the doors, clearly upset to everyone else.

“Dad what’s wrong with, Vanna?,”

Sam looked up to see Savannah cursing to herself, and crying. She wasn’t upset with anyone but herself.

“She looked so scared of me!,”

Sam’s stomach dropped, he didn’t even have to ask who ‘she’ was.

“You saw her?,” Sam didn’t trust his voice and there was a reason for it.

“She was out with her nurse. She looks so much better a-and she looks healthy, she’s eating again. She doesn’t look she’s dying!,”

Savannah was rambling and frustrated that she triggered you like that, “I saw her, I spoke to her but I scared her so bad she fell to the ground and covered her ears so she wouldn’t hear me talking, I- what if she relapses and it’s all my fault?,”

Sam pulled his sobbing daughter into his arms and calmed her down as best as he could, “She’s your sister, anyone in that situation would have done what you did, you miss her and that’s valid,”

It mad him feel good that you seemed to be getting better, that you looked healthy and lively. He just hoped you would be willing to see everyone soon.

------

“You have visitors today but I can send them aw-,”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” it’s been another 30 days and you figured it’s time to face the music, face everyone and maybe get the supposed closure everyone was saying you needed,

You missed her initial shock from your response but she nodded and waited for you anyway. You slipped on your cardigan and slippers, then let Brielle lead you to the visiting area.

Everyone expected to be turned away again but when they saw a second body behind Brielle, they all stood up ready to greet you but she held her hands up in caution

“It’s best to not overwhelm her and to let her initiate any contact,”

Sam just wanted to hug his daughter and let her know how sorry he was but he knew she was right. 

You hated the way you felt their eyes burning into you, you couldn't bear to look at them, not yet, so your eyes focused on getting your foot directly in the center of each tile on floor. Brielle sat you down across from them and told you she’d be right outside if you needed anything.

Then there you all were. Face to face.

“It’s been so long,” Keith whimpered, “I missed you so much,”

You played with a stray string in your cardigan and sighed.

“It’s been a long four months, sweetie. I missed you so much,” Sam just wanted you to look at him. Your hair was getting thick again, you skin shone under the sun, your lips were moisturized with color instead of grey and chapped. He could see you were doing better

“Four months, 17 days, 3 hours, 44 minutes and” You cut your attention to the clock on the wall, “12 seconds,” your voice was hoarse and you cursed yourself for it, “That's how long it’s really been,” you wrapped your arms around yourself as a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to push you to that point, baby. I should have been better,”

“Life is too short to feel sorry for ourselves,” you looked up at the ceiling light and shrugged, “This place is all about being philosophical. Don’t be sorry, be better. That’s all they fucking say,” you grit through your teeth.

“Like oh, don't feel sorry for yourself- no one forced you to drink so much, no one told you to roll up that dollar bill, no one held a gun to your head and told you to take those pretty pills with cool names that look like candy,” you smiled and laughed at yourself, the nervous tick you’ve developed to keep from crying.

“No one told you to be ungrateful and hate the gift of life that was given to you, so don't feel sorry for yourself, be better,” you used a mocking voice and rolled your eyes, “There’s no need to blame yourself, the common variable is me, I have to be accountable for my actions,” 

Everyone was worried about how scripted this sounded but they dubbed it down to you being a little upset about being forced here, still.

“I still should have been a better, dad,”

“We aaalll make mistakes, Sammy,” he didn’t miss that you didn’t call him dad. Everyone caught it, “But not every dad kicks their family out on Christmas eve with nowhere to go in the freezing cold,”

His heart stopped, he’s never forgiven himself for that drunken mistake. The marriage problems between him and your mom drove him to develop a drinking problem and due to his little problem, it caused him to mess up a lot of things up. 

“Why was it me? Like why did Savannah and Keith get to move past all of this and I’m the one stuck? I’m the one suffering even while recovering?”

No one could answer that.

“Why did I have to be the one to talk to the cops because you sent me back to mom with bruises on my legs, huh? I didn’t want to- I didn’t want them to go after you because you were still my dad- I still loved you after yelling at me at dinner, I still loved you after sending me back to mom early when you couldn’t stand to be around me- I still loved you when you moved away and missed big chunks in my life but you kept Sav and Keith. What did I do? Tell me, please, maybe I can fix it, maybe I can be better. I just want my dad to love me,”

“I do love you Y/N! And I’ll never forgive myself for-,

“Don't be sorry! Be better!,” you shouted over him. Angry with yourself that you began crying.

No one knew what to say. Everyone else was here for support but this was clearly a father and daughter situation.

“Did you ever love me?,”

A question a child should never have to ask their parent.

“When I got the call that your mother was in labor with you on my birthday the world stopped,” Sam sat with his elbows on his knees, looking dead at you but you still wouldn’t look at him, “You were the best gift I could have ever asked for.. ever. After we had you, I can’t tell you what went wrong because I don’t know,”

“It’s my fault,” You sobbed, “Say it! It’s my fault. Had I not been born, everyone’s life would be better!,”

You finally looked at him and everyone could see the fire in your eyes, wild and couldn’t be tamed, your trauma being the fuel.

“It’s not your fault at all. I have failed you as a father and I... I let it go on for far too long without acknowledging it and apologizing for it before it got too late,”

“If I could go back in time to make things better I would. I never wanted you to feel unloved or that life would be better without you,”

He hated to be sitting across from you, your mind dead set on him hating you. He just screwed up a lot in his life.

“I let you down so much. I love you more than you could ever know. I just fucked up a lot as your dad,”

“Y/N, sweetie, I know this is hard,” Tony chimed, “But this could be a new beginning for you both. You’re recovering and he’s trying to right his wrongs before it’s too late. It’s not going to be easy and I know everything hurts and it’s going to take time but you know what they say.. grow through what you go through,”

You didn’t have time to ask how he knew your mantra, but it made sense eventually.

“I forgave you a long time ago, dad,” you pulled your cardigan sleeves down, and used them to wipe your eyes, “I didn’t think it’d matter if I became Falcon’s candy flipping daughter or not, I just wanted to make everything stop. I- I just wanted to be numb so I didn’t feel bad about any and everything,”

Sam didn’t take into account how much you were actually battling in day to day life. He didn’t believe anything the psychiatrist was saying when you were 10, if only he did, all of this could have been avoided.

“I’m still fighting my want to just relapse in anyway I can but... I can’t bring myself to do it because I know if I do, that might be it and I don’t want it to be that way dad,” 

He reached out to grab your hands and could have sobbed when you didn’t move away

“It doesn't have to be,“

------

180 days is a long time, it might not seem like it, but it is a long ass time for someone to go without something that they believe made them better. Someone who took multiple substances at a time just to shut down their mind so they don’t remember things, so they don’t feel things.

“You gonna be ok watching Keith? We need Sav on this,”

“I got him, dad. Just be safe,”

Sam hated to admit it but he was still worried to leave you alone. He made Tony put away all of his alcohol and set up a security code so no one could get in it.

“I won’t have anyone over, I don’t know the code to the cellar. I’m not going to put Keith through that again, dad. Have a bit more trust in me,”

He watched the way your eyes twinkled and nodded before kissing your cheek and heading out with the team.

“Can we play mancala? No one else likes to play it with me,“

“Sure thing, bud. Let’s go,”

You two played mancala for multiple rounds, just for him to beat you almost every time. You two watched Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader for hours while eating shitty kraft mac and cheese before getting him ready for bed.

“Can you stay with me? So I know you’re safe,” 

“Did dad put you up to that?,“

“I just miss my big sister, Y/N,” He sat up and played with his blanket, “I almost saw you dead... you wouldn’t talk to us for forever, I just missed my big sister,” you didn’t mean to make him cry.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here buddy, I’ll stay, okay?,”

You crawled under his blanket and held him tight and he held you even tighter, not wanting you to leave. 

----

You don’t know what triggered the nightmare but you woke up in your own room, right on the floor, sweaty and panting. You never sleep walk. You felt something stick to your sweaty palm and look down to see a small plastic baggie with those pretty blue pills from the night you blacked out. 

You threw it across the room and curled up against the side of your bed whimpering your mantra to yourself.

“Would you like me to call for help?,” Friday spoke overhead.

“I'm okay,” you clenched your eyes shut and did what you could to muster up the strength to just get up and flush them. It should have been a relief to do it but you felt a pang in your chest. You should have been proud of yourself for having the strength to not break sobriety. 

“I thought you said you were gonna be okay?,” Keith’s voice scared the hell out of you, “If you were going to be okay then you wouldn’t look so upset as you flushed them,“

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Keith. Go back to bed,“

“I’m telling dad,”

“Tell him what?,” you snapped your neck to him, eyes narrowing, “What? that I’m still fucking struggling? Yeah, I’ll tell him myself, bud,”

“He’s gonna send you back,” Keith didn’t mean to scare you, he was just worried and his words weren’t coming out right.

“I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” you threw the baggie away and walked past him to sit on your bed to just try and calm down.

“Do I need to call him,”

“No,”

“Then what needs to happen?,”

“I need you to just be quiet!,” you hated raising your voice at him, but the rambling and patronizing was not helping.

“I’m calling dad,”

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

It was past midnight when they were all headed back and Sam got the phone call from Keith.

“Hey, son,”

“Y/N was walking while she was asleep and then woke up with a bag of pills in her hands,”

“What? she didn’t take any did she?,” Sam’s tone had everyone turning to him with expressions of worry.

“No but she looked sad when she flushed them,”

Sam sighed happily when he heard you’d flushed them. But for you to seem sad while doing so?  that couldn’t be a good thing.

“She’s mad that I called you but you need to know, she locked herself in her room after yelling at me. I can hear her crying and talking to herself. I didn’t mean to make her mad, dad,”

Sam sighed and sat back down beside Savannah who was waiting for her dad to hang up so she could know what was happening.

“She’s going to be okay, bud. You have to understand that what she went through was not easy. She might be out of hat place but she’s fighting everyday  to continue to get better and get her mind far away from that stuff as best as she can. We have to be patient, okay?,”

You had been pacing in your room. You knew all of this would put you so many steps back with your dad and his trust. You flinched at the sound of knocking at your door and his voice.

“Sweetie, open up,” 

You didn’t want to face him right now. You didn’t want to talk about it, nothing. You didn’t need anyone scolding you as you were already scolding yourself. You hadn’t stopped beating yourself up about it.

Sam didn’t want to freak out when you didn’t reply. He didn’t want to admit that he thought the worst, “Honey, please,”

“Dad, I am fine. Get some rest,” another step back. You were doing good not shutting anyone out but the moment something goes down, you forget all your effort.

“Y/N, I am not here to be mad at you. I am here to make sure you’re okay and to let you know I am here. You just gotta let me in,”

You cursed to yourself before walking over to the door to unlock it and let him in. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug. 

“I didn’t take anything,”

“I know... even if you did- I wouldn’t be mad at you, disappointed yes, but mad? No. Relapse sometimes comes with recovery,”

You don’t know that Sam had been attending seminars for parents that have kids battling different things such as addiction. Multiple lessons were learned as well as communication pointers. 

“I didn’t mean to do that while Keith was here. I understand if you don’t trust me anymore,”

“I still trust you, Y/N. You don’t need to be beating yourself up right now. You did the right thing in flushing whatever you had, even if it did make you a little sad and made you feel like you needed it in that moment. Be proud of yourself. You took a big step forward by doing that, be proud,”

“How can I be proud when I hate myself for flushing them?,” you had to be honest. You wouldn’t be feeling this if you weren’t presented with them. It made you feel weak. You should be able to look at these things and be able to say no with no guilt.

“Because you flushed them regardless. This takes time, Y/N. I’m being patient with you now, so you have to learn to be patient with yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day,”

“Yeah well the people who built it up weren’t highed up on something now were they?,” 

“Don’t be self-deprecating. You’re still going strong. Be proud even if you feel like there isn’t a reason to be,”

You knew he was right. Whether you were sad about flushing them, you still got the guts to do it and that’s commendable, you should be proud. You were kicking your ass when you should be happy and feel relief. You shouldn’t be feeling this weight, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty.

You’re growing through what you go through and that deserves a pat on the back.

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

You don’t know how you got here. You went back to school and shit came crumbling down. You were going strong but the weight of responsibility and insecurity became too much. Walking down the fucking halls everyday, comparing yourself to every girl that looked like barbie then going to the bathroom to stare at your reflection and pick yourself apart until the voices became too loud for you to handle so you went to the school plug and slapped money in his hand

“Anything will do,”

After school he came back and handed you a black plastic bag with cheap alcohol in it. You hid in an empty class room and barely drank a quarter of the bottle before you felt sick, like your body was rejecting what you were trying to force down into it. 

Your fingers moved faster than your mind, grabbing for your phone and dialing away.

“Hello?,”

You sniffled and held the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony? I- I...,” you hiccuped and hugged the bottle close to your chest, “Uncle Tony, I messed up,”

-----

He was there for you in no time. He knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it but he knew your dad would have to find out about this. 

“I don’t wanna go back. I’m done growing through what I grow through, its a crock of shit,”  you stared out the window, eyes heavy.

“I know the fight becomes annoying,” Tony sighed, “But from the looks of it, your body has already made a decision for you,” 

He was right, a few sips and your body was angry with you. You should be thankful because it didn’t always work like that with other people who were fighting this like you. Others bodies often welcomed such a thing back easily, the bodies of some couldn’t even continue the fight without it before giving out.

“Plus you let someone know, as soon as it happened. Everyone can see your efforts. You may be tired of growing through it but it’s become natural for you and you don’t even realize it, though I can’t blame you. I was the same way,”

He sprinkled that last bit in there like it was a dash of parsley to complete a dish and it had your neck snapping to look at him. “Excuse me?,”

He chuckled and raised his eyebrows all while mumbling “well,” he pulled to a stop light and looked over at you, “I wasn’t always the polished hero I am now,”

He patted your leg in a hopeful manner, “In my days of college, getting drugs was as easy as buying cola from the corner store. Trying to run a company that my dad didn’t really want me to have in the first place to staying up all day everyday to make it through college was bound to get me in some trouble,” the light turned green and he lightly put his foot on the gas to continue the peaceful rid home, “I’d snort some coke to keep me away and focus long enough to study, I thought it was normal because the other students were doing it, until it wasn’t about trying to focus on school anymore. It was about  how high I could get and how good I could feel to the point I couldn’t walk out my dorm in the morning for class without rubbing a little on my gums or cutting up a quick line,”

“How’d you kick it?,” You never would have thought he batted such a thing, he changed for the better and picked himself up.

“The nose bleeds. The doctor told me if I didn’t stop I wouldn’t see the day I graduated. Told me I’d never see the day where I became the man I deserved as a role model as a kid. I wanted to be better than him. In a moment of weakness, my recovery was fueled by spite,” 

“I guess everyone’s come-to-Jesus meeting is a bit different,” you give a small smile and shrug, “Mine was when Keith practically slapped some sense into me. He’s a kid, who wants their little sibling walking around knowing their older sibling is a fucking fiend?,” you give a harsh scoff and roll your eyes as you feel tears coming, “He didn’t deserve to see me like that, that night- in and out of consciousness, watching them pump me full of coal and other shit to keep me alive, that screwed up his head and he’s barely hit puberty yet,”

Tony could almost hear the tears in your voice, you had your head turned to look out the window, he didn’t need to see your face to know.

“He’s your ticket out of the dark room,”

-----

Your dad didn’t put you back in the rehabilitation center because you owned up to knowing you messed up, because you called someone for help, knowing the slight possibility that you might have gotten a few people upset.

It was all trial and error, a constant fight, day and night even in your moments of shut eye. 

It was a learning experience for Sam, it taught him how to be a better dad, taught him that although he can’t go back and change things, he still has now to break habits and form healthy ones and make them the foundation of a healthy relationship between father and child.

He was in your corner and that helped keep your head above water.

Addiction and mental illness were never cut and dry. There’d always be doubts and close calls of near relapse but it was a fight you’d be willing to put up with 24/7. 

You never wanted to be back in that dark room of addiction. Driving yourself insane trying to find the next fix so you feel “normal”- but there was nothing normal about forcing yourself to be numb, there was nothing normal about denying you need help. Nothing normal whatsoever about forcing chemicals that could kill you into your body just to be happy. 

This, this right here was normal. Feeling pain, fighting, crying, trials, everything that you’re feeling now. Feeling is normal, even if it hurts sometimes.

You’d never stop growing through what you go through, but the fight.. that effort you put in.. it’ll always be worth it.

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

this took so long to write because I was never satisfied with it. I kept editing and erasing and adding more. And here is the finished product. It doesn’t have to resonate with you but here it is. Thank you for the love and support you guys always gift me.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED>

tags: @vozit @blackreaders-assemble @retroxvailles @champangebucky @sambucky8 @princess-toshii @sebbyslut @titty-teetee @ilovefanfic86 @valkyriesnymph @dumbchick @mbaku-babygirl​ @veryhellshdia @persephones24 @here-for-your-bullshit @mokacoconut @spideys-wife @xye-weirdo @chonisberonica @disaster-rose @micki-smiles @valentinevirgo @yournonlocalpoc​ @warmchick​ @hisxblackxqueen​

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 21

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Calypso and Annabeth have an important encounter

A/N: Sorry for the lateness! It’s time for some Annabeth action. Just a fair warning, since next Friday is the Christmas day and the Friday after that the New Year, I am not sure when I'm going to be able to post again. Be prepared for at least one week's break, possibly even two. But don't worry because more is definitely coming.

I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!!

Calypso is the bolded text and Hazel the regular in the texting part.

Words: 2300+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

Getting Leo to talk to her again was a huge weight off of Calypso’s shoulders, but there was still more to be done. Annabeth still kept to herself during the history lectures and Calypso didn’t want to force her to talk; she felt Annabeth should be the one to initiate it. From what Calypso had heard, Piper had tried to talk to her earlier, but so far Calypso hadn’t noticed any significant changes in Annabeth’s behavior. When she walked into the lecture hall that day, she noticed the blonde girl on the opposite side of the room, focused on her book. Letting a small sigh out of her mouth, she went to her usual seat pretty far from Annabeth.

Since the lecture wouldn’t start for a few more minutes, Calypso decided to use the time by checking her phone. When she opened her WhatsApp, she considered for a moment to whom she should text. Her first instinct told her she should contact Leo, but she imagined he was probably busy going to his own lecture at that moment, so she ended up scrolling through her other contacts instead. Noticing that Hazel seemed to be online, she started typing to her.

10:05: Hi, Hazel

10:05: Hi there! Was just thinking about you!

10:06: You were? How come?

10:06: Frank just texted me that on his morning jog near the campus today he had run into someone he had apparently recently met somewhere (he didn’t tell me where exactly).

10:07: and they had talked for a while.

10:07: At some point Frank mentioned the guy’s first name was Leo. I’m pretty sure it was /the/ Leo!!

10:08: How can you be so sure? I’m sure there are plenty of Leos around this campus. It’s not a rare name.

10:09: no but hear me out. The description matches with what you’ve told me. He said he’s a mechanic with a dog and when I asked Frank what he looked like, he said ‘dark hair, scrawny, eyes look like there’s some mischief going on in that head of his all the time but he’s not actually that bad when you talk to him’

10:09: I admit that does sound like the Leo I know

10:09: I told you! What a small world it is, apparently the boys we’re interested in know each other!

10:10: Still feels so weird when you put it that directly. You’re the only one who knows so far. So please, if you somehow happen to see him as well, don’t say anything.

10:10: Alright, I won’t. But what are /you/ waiting for? If he’s anything like the boys in our art class I’m sure he’s all over you by now.

10:10: Hazel!

10:11: Sorry, sorry. But you did talk to him after that… situation you had?

10:11: I did. We’re good now. Thanks for the advice the other day, by the way. It did help.

10:12: Ha, so you’re saying I gave you good advice. Could that mean that maybe you should also reread what I just said a moment ago?

10:12: Sorry, I gotta go. Something came up. TTYL!

10:13: Calypso!!

10:13: That’s so rude :P

Calypso hadn’t lied, though. She had noticed someone sneaking from the other side of the hall to the seat behind her, and that someone happened to be her friend to whom she hadn’t properly spoken for several weeks now. Trying to stay on her seat as neutrally as possible, still watching her now dark phone screen, she waited for Annabeth to start the conversation.

There was a tap on her shoulder. “Cal…” she finally heard Annabeth’s familiar voice say.

“Yeah?” Calypso asked tentatively, slowly turning on her seat to see the speaker.

“I think we should talk,” Annabeth stated, sounding more like her usual self.

“Um, sure,” Calypso answered but didn’t have time to say more when the professor stopped her, starting the lecture. “After this class, OK?”

“Right.” Annabeth nodded. Then she turned her focus to the professor, but Calypso noticed that not for long. She started doodling something into her notebook and was tapping on the floor with her foot, a habit that Calypso had noticed was very familiar to Leo, especially when he was nervous. Sometimes it was so easy to forget that Annabeth also had dyslexia and ADHD like him. The information seemed to come to her so naturally… but before the Percy incident, Annabeth had revealed that especially when she had been younger she usually had had to read the textbooks at least 5 times before she had finally absorbed what she had read. Later on, with the help of a teacher that actually understood her learning disability, she had learned some other methods that seemed to help her. One side of Calypso thought that it was relieving to see Annabeth show signs of weakness because usually she seemed so good at everything she did that it was mildly intimidating.

Soon Calypso realized that she herself had trouble focusing on what the professor was explaining while thinking about what she should tell Annabeth after the class. What could she say that she already hadn’t in the previous time? That she absolutely hated Annabeth’s boyfriend’s guts? That her flatmate made her feel weird things when they were in the same room so there was absolutely no need to be jealous?

Once the lecture was over, Calypso packed her things and gestured to Annabeth that they should have their conversation outside the lecture hall. They were walking silently until most of their fellow students had split into their own directions and found a quiet spot by the windows. There were some armchairs spread around the corridor to make it seem more comfortable and the girls sat down on two of them.

“I take it you may have changed your mind about me,” Calypso said directly once she had settled on her seat, feeling there was no need to tiptoe around the topic.

“I… yeah,” Annabeth started, and for a brief moment Calypso thought she showed a tiny bit of fragility. Suddenly she realized that maybe Annabeth wasn’t being her usual confident self, because she wasn’t that great at dealing with her feelings. Things like maths, chemistry and physics were simple to her because there were certain rules that needed to be applied. But the human mind was harder to read, Calypso knew that much. “Sometimes I think there are two different Annabeths: one that is very protective and jealous when it comes to the people she cares about, and then there’s the rational Annabeth who tries to yell to the other one that she is being ridiculous. I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

Calypso shook her head. “No, I think I can understand why it bothered you. I hate keeping things from you, but I promised to myself… I mean, it is safer to not get you guys involved.”

“But… why? What could happen?” Annabeth asked, folding her arms.

“I’m not going to go to details but my father… I’m sure you have figured out by now that he is not a nice guy. When he doesn’t like someone, or someone tries to get into his way… Good things don’t usually follow that. And I mean it. There is a very good reason why I moved this far from my previous home. To be honest, I would have liked to go all the way to Greece but that just wasn’t possible.”

“So you’re saying that your father is what you’re afraid of? And he could get us - I mean your friends - into trouble if you shared too much information with us?” Annabeth collected the pieces of the puzzle together.

“Basically, yes. But please, don’t ask more. I may already have said too much,” Calypso said worriedly.

“Don’t worry. My lips are definitely sealed,” Annabeth reassured her.

“Thanks.” Calypso hesitated a bit. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” Annabeth nodded.

Calypso shifted a bit on her seat, trying to get more comfortable. “If I’m honest, I was not expecting you to forgive me that whole Percy thing that easily. What changed your mind?”

“Well, let me just tell you that you have some very good friends who managed to persuade me.” Annabeth gave her a playful smile.

“Huh? Who?” Calypso knew that Piper had talked to Annabeth but she didn’t know there were others as well.

“First of all, Percy convinced me that there was absolutely no reason to be jealous. I’m not going to tell you how he did it, but he can be pretty sweet when he wants to. Besides, between you and me: Seaweed Brain just can’t lie to me. I can read him like a book.” Annabeth’s smile only widened as she said that.

“OK.” Calypso didn’t think she wanted to hear more about that topic.

“But that wasn’t all. Piper also talked to me,” Annabeth added.

“What did she say?” Calypso asked curiously.

Annabeth’s eyes started sparkling mischievously. “A lot of things,” she started, “but she reminded me of some events that happened before Percy’s arrival that evening.”

“I don’t understand you now,” Calypso pretended to be stupid even though she was already guessing where Annabeth was going with her statement. “What events?”

“I don’t know…” Annabeth tapped her fingers against her forehead. “I think hugging, cupcake sharing and flirty bickering was involved. Keyword: think. I guess the people involved know more about that than I do.”

“That was… that was just us being friendly!” Calypso rushed to deny. “And what was so flirty about our bickering? We do that all the time and I’m not trying to…”

“Relax, Cal,” Annabeth stopped her. “It just kind of reminded me of me and Percy. But if you say so…”

Calypso groaned slightly. “Fine, you won. Again. Maybe… I may be starting to like him. But that doesn’t mean anything. He probably doesn’t like me back. And it wouldn’t work out for various reasons. I… When I moved here, I really thought I could just forget about everything that happened in my past and start to live my life. But it turns out that my past is still following me and stopping me from forming functional relationships. Besides… none of my former relationships worked. I may have been a kid back then but I made some bad decisions and it wrecked my self confidence. I don’t want to get hurt again and I also don’t want to hurt Leo. He has a very good heart, despite his weirdnesses…”

“Calypso, I know from my own experiences that ghosts of your past can be hard to fight. I have had plenty of family issues of my own in the past and they have probably influenced my later decisions, I admit that. But you seem to have taken an attitude that you have to deal with it alone. But you don’t. Let us help you. Maybe I can’t speak for all of us but I know I’m not afraid of your father. It is always possible to fight if you just come up with a good strategy.”

“This is probably a weird comment but that sounded like something I’d imagine the goddess Athena say. Are you sure you’re not her? Or related?” Calypso attempted to joke.

“Last time I checked, all of us were regular people,” Annabeth chuckled. “I admit I’m probably not quite as advanced in the greek mythology as you are although I have studied some of it, of course. But your question reminded me of this book series I read as a kid: Peter Johnson and the Olympians. The characters in it were children of Greek gods and I always wished that I’d be like one of the main characters who was a daughter of Athena.”

“Ooh, I read that series too!” Calypso said enthusiastically. “It was kind of cute although now that I know more about history and Greek mythology, not all the characters are quite like I picture them in my head. But I appreciate the effort to make the mythology more known to young readers.”

“Right! I agree.” Annabeth nodded before realizing they had gotten pretty far from the original topic.  “Sorry, we got a bit sidetracked here. I seriously do hope that you’ll let us help if needed. I myself am gonna try to be more patient and let you do it on your own terms, though.”

“Thanks, Annabeth. Um, about that Leo part, though…” Calypso felt her cheeks heat again and she wanted to curse her silly mind for reacting like that every time she thought about her flatmate. “Would you please be kind and keep it between us? I just really am not ready to deal with that yet…”

“Fine. I’ll let it be. For now. But maybe think about it. Who knows, you could be surprised by what might happen…” Annabeth said mysteriously.

“What do you mean?” Calypso frowned.

“Like I said, there are people who are ready to help you carry your burden even though you’re too absorbed by your issues to notice that. That’s all.”

“O-kay,” Calypso said suspiciously, wondering what Annabeth’s statement implied.

“You should know that one of the people who talked with me was Leo. He said he had noticed that you were feeling pretty down since the… incident and that you seemed to blame yourself for everything. And that you also felt very bad about not being honest. That’s what really opened my eyes and made me decide that I need to get over my grudge that doesn’t even make sense. I got what I wanted, didn’t I? Logically thinking, you should be the one who’s mad at me.”

“That Leo…” Calypso was so focused on that part for a moment that it took her a while to register what else Annabeth had said. “Um, sorry. To be honest, I think the Calypso from a couple of years ago would have been mad. But my priorities have changed and I also realized that Percy is way happier with you.”

“I’m glad you’re not holding a grudge, though,” Annabeth said.

“Life’s too short for that,” Calypso shrugged.

“I guess so. So, we’re friends, right?”

“Right,” Calypso confirmed, giving Annabeth a genuine smile. Some hope had risen in her heart again and she made a mental note to thank a certain mechanic later at home.