#also another fun fact. i have a cousin. or. i dunno if shes a cousin actually? im related to her SOMEHOW.

[spagheddiesquash]

watching older cartoons with the sound effects and everything is an interesting experience when youre so used to seeing the sounds used ironically. like for example i hear that POINK!! like. the poking noise. and im like oh shit i know that sound. from Cartoons. until i realize Oh wait im WATCHING Cartoons

[crabgod1432]

Starting an ask thing for fun because why not. These are all of my ocs that are currently in use. You all may ask whatever you like to whichever oc you like, as long as it follows these rules:

- Nothing sexual or fetishy, please :]

- Don't be a stinky winky to others, people can have opinions and thoughts and those should be respected. Of course it shouldn't have to be said but don't be racist, sexist, express pedophilic behavior, etc. Anything of the sorts will not be tolerated.

- Don't. Ship my characters with eachother (unless I explicitly say here that they are in a relationship) or with any other characters.

I dunno any other rules but I'm sure there's some unspoken ones. Anywho, onto some descriptions and notes !!

CrabGod - My main oc, his body is made of a grey/black goo that can take any shape, form, texture, etc. that he desires. Also the first of my characters to be created.

CrabGod's Unnamed Wife - A purty lookin' jellyfish who is not of many words, but still some words.

CrabGod's Three Kids - The eldest is a gargantuan beast that is capable of consuming stars. The middle is literally just a crab squid from Subnautica. The youngest takes after her mother.

A - A mario ripoff that always carries his trusty monkey wrench.

E - A hippie poet that always carries his trusty cinderblock.

I - The oddball that always carries his trusty metal folding chair.

O - The shy guy who always carries his trusty concrete-filled pillow.

U - The half-lobster being that exists as some odd counterpart to CrabGod. Always carries his trusty copper pipe, named Jerry.

Y - The grumpy elder sister who always carries her trusty high-heeled shoe.

T - The goofy, 40 ft. tall cousin that always carries his trusty cement watermelon.

W - Mildly disgruntled fusion of CrabGod and U.

Jerry - From an alternate universe where the roles of U and his pipe Jerry are switched, always carries around her trusty seafood pick.

Carbgarb, Crombdgob, Crablob, Comgom - A group of strange CrabGod imitators.

Mr. Smile - A small little critter who is always smiling. A gentleman.

Mr. Frown - A tall beast with a very stern face. Also a gentleman.

Ronald - A chipper, cursed fellow.

Donald - A sentient, laser-shooting, knockoff ender pearl that's always by Ronald's side.

Hamburger - A totally inconspicuous rat.

Jim - The soul of a long dead elder. Most often seen hidden in photos. Good with kids.

Pasghetti - Yet another gargantuan beast. She is made of mostly flesh, muscle, and other meat. Her skull is interchangeable. A sweetheart.

Nolana - A girl who is not ok mentally or physically. The flowers in her mouth are covering something, maybe. She has a unique relationship with all forms of flora. She's also a newer character so I don't even know much about her myself :]

Speck of Dusty - My object show oc. He's a silly guy, maybe kinda scary sometimes. He's a good guy at heart, though.

Me - I'm Me.

Notes:

- A, E, I, O, U, and Y are siblings, with Y being the eldest of the bunch. The others' ages have not been decided upon.

- T is the cousin of the Letter Siblings.

- The number on I's jersey is different in every depiction.

- Mr. Smile and Mr. Frown are the best of friends !!

- Ronald and Donald are never seen apart. They may or may not be tethered to eachother in some fashion.

- Hamburger is absolutely a normal rat, it swears by it.

- All of CrabGod's kids are children. Don't be weird with them.

- Speck of Dusty is, in fact, the size of a speck of dust.

- CrabGod's red eye is always on his right (our left) and his blue eye is always on his left (our right).

- Cromgom canonically loves Snickers and hates the ACT standardized test.

- The flowers over Nolana's mouth often change, either because she wants them to (so I can practice drawing flowers) or to reflect how she's feeling.

- Characters that cannot speak, at least in languages we can understand are: Carbgarb, Crombdgob, Crablob, Donald, Hamburger, Jim, CrabGod's middle and eldest children, and Pasghetti.

- You can make your own letter characters !! Please try not to use letters that I've already used here !! Letters that have been used are A, E, I, O, U, Y, T, W, and L (by @silly-billy-inc). ANY other letters, maybe even numbers or symbols are game for ANYONE !! It's just the letters listed prior that are NOT to be reused !! I've attached a diagram that shows how their anatomy works !!

- Fanart is allowed !! No need to ask for permission if you feel compelled to make art of these characters for whatever reason !! Anything is game aside from sexual or suggestive content !!

- When you ask, be sure to specify which character(s) you're talking to as well as your ask !!

Have fun, Tumblr !! I Hope you all enjoy my little brainlets !!

[buckyownsmylife]

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby​‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[nothing-but-dreamy]

FAKE DATE

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 10.822

Warnings: some cursing, fluff, mentioning of cheating

A/N: So.... this idea started as a quick idea for a one shot.... I guess, it got a little bit out of hand... but who cares... have fun... it's worth to read it

Summary: Your ex marries your cousin and because it's family, you have to attend there with a date. No matter how hard it would be for you. You talk with Crowe about it and she comes up with an idea: a fake date with one of her friends, Nyx Ulric. Nyx agrees reluctantly and even if he had sworn to himself to avoid meeting new people or rather to let them get too close … little did he know that you could change this plan without even knowing it…

"Crowe, it's horrible! I really tried to talk with my mother but she won't accept the fact that I don't want to come to this wedding. She said: 'We become a family. You're mature enough to work past all this'. Argh! I would love to scream.", you cried out, raking violently through your hair with your fingers.

"Yeah... Right... It's about maturity that you have to watch how your cousin marries your ex-boyfriend who had left you. For your cousin. This marriage is crazy. Since when do they even know each other?"

"For seven months.", you muffled into your hands.

"Wait! What? You met this idiot what? Ten months ago!"

"Yup. And then, we had a family meeting where he met my cousin. They got along pretty well. Maybe I should have sensed something there already. But I didn't.", you said heartbroken.

"So, he met your cousin behind your back, he cheated on you and your mother still wants you to join the wedding? Are really all of your family so stupid, sorry for that, to accept the fact that he’s a lying and cheating bastard?"

"Yes, they are!", you cried out, burying your face into your hands once again, "Just because he's some high-paid, upper class doctor. And you know what the worst is? I have to bring someone with me. A date. You know for the 'aesthetic'. It’s my mother’s twisted ‘perfect world’ thingy. But I don't have someone. I'm still hurt because of what he had done to me. I don't wanna meet someone new.", you breathed devastated.

Crowe nodded slowly, understanding your point because she was there as she had picked up the shattered pieces that had been your former self. Then, an idea popped up in her mind even if it was a tricky one, "YN, I might have a solution for your problem."

Slowly, you looked up, "Yeah... I already considered running away but I can't. My mother would find me everywhere."

Crowe chuckled, "No. Not that. Maybe we keep this running away idea as a back-up. No, I might have a solution for your date misery."

***

The next day, Crowe searched for Libertus and Nyx in the training area of the Kingsglaive headquarters. Finding them warping around, she watched them for a while before both men closed up to her for a small break.

"I will never really get used to this warping shit. My stomach makes somersaults all the time.", Libertus complained and rubbed over his stomach and chest to calm down the heartburn.

"Well, not every person is made for flying.", Crowe said teasingly what caused Nyx to chuckle and Libertus to roll with his eyes.

"So, what's up? It's a bit too early for you.", Nyx said, leaning against a pillar with crossed arms.

"Actually, I wanted to talk with you, Nyx. I... I need your help.", Crowe said carefully.

Nyx frowned as he saw the wariness in his friend's eyes, "And for what?"

"The thing is... I don't really need your help. It's rather a friend of mine.", Crowe said and saw how Nyx pressed his jaws together.

"Crowe? Is this another try to set me up with someone?", he asked serious.

Crowe gnawed on her lower lip, "No... Well... Not really?"

"Crowe! Come on. We already had that!", Nyx said serious, drawing his brows together.

Crowe raised her hands, "I know, I know. You made this clear the last time. But this is different. YN really needs help. Listen, their ex marries and they have to attend there-"

"Why? Why do they have to attend their ex' wedding?", Libertus asked confused.

Crowe grimaced, "Well, he's marrying their cousin."

"What?", Nyx and Libertus called out at the same time.

Crowe pinched the bridge of her nose, "It's a pretty shitty situation. This asshole cheated on YN with their cousin a few months after they started to date. But because he's such a great doctor, with much prestige and money, everyone seems to be cool with this wedding no matter how YN feels about this."

"Holy six...", Libertus whispered, shaking his head at how complicated this situation seemed to be.

"And why do you need me? What role shall I play in all this?", Nyx asked even if he already had an idea what would come next.

"Well... Not enough that YN shall be part of the wedding, they also shall bring a date along. Something about aesthetics or stuff. I dunno. Don't ask me. And that's the point where I need your help, Nyx.", Crowe said and looked at her friend with a pleading expression and a hopeful smile while Nyx stayed silent.

"Why don't you ask me for help?", Libertus asked, pointing at himself.

Crowe looked apologetically at the taller man, "Well, sorry, but I think Nyx is more of their type-"

"More of their type? Crowe!", Nyx called out, getting slightly agitated.

Crowe raised her hands in surrender, "Calm down. I don't wanna set you up with them. But YN shall bring a date to this already crazy and hilarious wedding. The idiot cheated on them for several months, left them and now, YN’s still very hurt. After the breakup and the announced engagement, they were a mess. I needed some time to collect all the pieces that were left from them. They're not able to date someone or to find someone new. So, I thought about a fake date. It's not a real date. You just have to act like it. Please, Nyx. You don't have to do much. Just accompany them to this wedding. Keep them company and distract them a little. Just have some fun."

Nyx considered the idea. He wasn't really in the mood for dates or weddings but he knew Crowe well enough. If she thought about this as a good idea, he really might be helpful. Nyx’ strong helper syndrome was now also kicking in once again, "So, just if I say yes, and I say if, what shall I do?"

On Crowe's lips grew a smile because she knew Nyx would say yes if he was already this far with his considerations, "Nothing much. You meet them. I guess they will pick you up or something. You attend the wedding in the church and the party afterwards together. That's it. You don't have any responsibilities except to be by YN's side as their date. Maybe support them a little bit during this whole carnival."

"And when shall this trickery be?", Nyx asked warily.

Crowe's face changed into a grimace once again, "That's the stupid part... It's this weekend."

"Crowe!", Nyx called out. It was already Wednesday.

"Hey! It's not my fault. YN also told me about it yesterday. Obviously, they tried to discuss this whole thing about the presence with their mother but she was very persistent with this point. Nyx, it's urgent. Next to you two, they're my best friend. I hate to see them suffer. It’s not fair because they’re a jewel of a person. That their ex shall get a happy ending after everything he had done is already the biggest joke. But now, he will become part of their family, as well. I really need your help.", Crowe begged.

Nyx took a deep breath and released the air slowly, "Alright, alright. I will do it. But", he said and raised his hand as Crowe already started to get excited, "I guess I need a tuxedo or something like this-"

"I will take care of that! You don't have to do anything like I said. I promise."

"Then, just one more thing. Maybe it would be better if we met before the wedding? You know, to check if we get along and if the chemistry is working."

***

"He did say yes?"

"You really had doubts?", Crowe asked with a smirk. Your reaction had been gold as she had told you that she had found a date for you: Nyx Ulric - one of her friends and colleagues.

In fact, you had heard a few things about him. That he was from Galahd, had lost his family and had a tendency to be a little bit gruff in front of others but with that he was just hiding his soft side, as Crowe had told you. To meet him and Libertus was long overdue, "Well... A little bit to be honest. I mean, he doesn't know me. I know we will just be acting but still it's like a blind date. What if we don't get along? It's all about chemistry and stuff..."

Crowe blinked and stared at you, "Well, I'm sure you two will like each other. In fact, Nyx mentioned the exact same doubts with the exact same words."

"Really? Well... it's maybe just coincidence.", you said, turning around to get something to drink from the kitchen.

But no matter how quickly you had been, Crowe had seen your blushing cheeks and grinned about it. It had been a long time since she had seen you like this: filled with life and pleasant anticipation.

"So, Nyx is okay with this whole fake date thingy?", you asked, while gnawing on your lower lip. You felt nervous to meet him even if he was a friend of Crowe.

Crowe smiled, "Don't worry, he is. You said you could get a tuxedo?"

"Yes! Of course. Just give me his size and I will take care of it. It's easy for me. Tomorrow, it can be here."

"Great. So, could I bring him here tomorrow? You two can meet and he can try on the tuxedo."

"Perfect idea. And I will cook something for us.", you said with sparkling eyes. You had no idea why but suddenly, you were even looking forward to meeting Nyx, your unexpected lifesaver.

***

"You said, I don't have to do anything.", Nyx complained as he made his way through the city the next day with Crowe by his side.

Crowe rolled with her eyes, "Yes and you really don't have to do anything except to try on one or two tuxedos, alright? It's not that I would drag you to a shopping trip. We meet YN at their place where you can try on the clothes. So, we will kill two birds with one stone."

Nyx had laid awake last night while thinking about this fake date idea. Sure, he wanted to help Crowe and her friend but that didn’t change the fact that there was a reason behind his reluctance to date new people. So, once again, Nyx asked himself if he really was doing the right thing…

*

As you heard the first knock at your door, you jumped by surprise. It was friday evening, the day before the wedding and it was arranged that Crowe and Nyx would visit you after they were done with their shift. But still, as your friend was there, you felt excited. You were even sick with nervousness to meet Nyx. He was the first guy you would meet after the horrible break-up and even if it was just a fake date, your hands became sweaty and your heart began to race.

The second knock brought you back to reality and you hurried to open the door, "Hey, guys. Come in-", you stopped as Crowe passed you and your eyes fell on Nyx who smiled at you warm and softly. Never in your life had you seen such a handsome, good looking man. Even your ex wasn't able to keep up with Nyx’ undeniable, rough sexiness. His eyes were the bluest and his lips the fullest. The stubble he sported and his greyish hair with the braids suited him perfectly. You noticed something wild in his appearance which got underlined by the tattoos on his face and ears. For the first time, you understood what Crowe had meant as she said that it was visible that Nyx was from Galahd. He wasn't hiding his roots and as it was for you, there was no reason for him to do this at all.

"YN?", Crowe asked as she saw you gaping at Nyx. Internally, she was pleased with herself. To see you like this told her that she had been right: Nyx was your type of guy.

Crowe's voice brought you back from your daydreaming, "Yeah... Sorry, I was just... Uhm...", you stammered.

Crowe grinned but stepped in to help you, "YN meet Nyx. Nyx this YN, my emotional support when I have to deal with too much of your bullshit."

You smiled thankfully, "Yeah... The support might be questionable nowadays.", you said shyly.

"That's okay. It will change again. I'm sure.", Crowe said.

"It's nice to meet you finally, YN. I heard a lot of great things about you.", Nyx said politely as you invited him in. As he and Crowe had gone to your place, Nyx was intimidated because of your fancy apartment complex. You were from Insomnia but because you were refugee friendly and even tried to help to improve the underground district your friendship with Crowe had been possible which calmed Nyx a little. But as you had opened the door, nervousness and excitement spread through his emotionally cold veins. Crowe had described you as nice, sweet and beautiful. But in Nyx' eyes, these words were far away from being suitable. Your eyes were clear and bright as you looked right into his soul. Your lips had such a rich color that they already looked delicious. Nyx knew he had to keep his composure together and actually he wasn't really interested in meeting new people as he always said like a mantra but you and your sweet appearance made it extremely difficult to stick to his plan.

"I'm sure Crowe made up a few things to let me look better.", you said chuckling.

As Nyx heard you laughing, his heart made a little jump and suddenly, he asked himself how it was even possible for someone to hurt you at all.

Pleased with Nyx' reaction about her friend, Crowe grinned, "No, I was always honest and I just told everyone how amazing you are."

"Liar. But that's okay. So, I... The tuxedos already arrived and the dinner is almost done. What about you try on the clothes, Nyx, and then, we eat?", you suggested.

"Sounds great.", Crowe said and went into the kitchen to check the oven for what you had prepared.

"Come on, I will show you the way.", you said to Nyx and guided him through your apartment into your bedroom, "So, Crowe gave me your sizes from your uniform. I got an anthracite and a black tuxedo. The only two colors my mother allows tomorrow. Just try them.", you said and shot the man next to a shy smile. Somehow, his scent was able to fill your small room so quickly that you knew it would be stuck there for a few days and you already were looking forward to it.

"Thanks.", Nyx said and cursed himself because he wanted to say more but he couldn't. Somehow, his tongue was tied up into a knot. Obviously, he had been out of training for human interactions a bit too long.

You were about to leave him alone before you stopped at the door once again, "I have to thank you, Nyx. I... If you wouldn't do that I'm sure I would die because of so many things tomorrow. I owe you really big. So, thank you really much.", you said with a shy smile and reddening cheeks. And before Nyx could say anything, you left the room and closed the door.

Nyx stared at the spot where you had stood. It was one thing to do Crowe a favor in helping you. But to see all these raw emotions mirrored in your eyes did something to him. Your voice had been filled with sadness even if you had tried to hide it. And somehow, deep empathy for you flooded his veins and anger towards your ex entered his muscles. He should accompany you? He swore to himself to do this and to watch out for you the whole evening. Because like Crowe, he already hated it to see you suffer.

*

"So, you like him, huh?", Crowe asked as you joined her in the kitchen.

You stared at your friend with shocked filled eyes, "I- I don't know what you mean.", you said defensive even if it wasn't really working.

Crowe grinned, "Come on, YN. I know you. And I saw how you were staring at Nyx. Therefore, you like him."

You felt your cheeks blushing and you even pretended to look after your cooking pots so you could avoid Crowe's smug smirk, "He's nice, yeah. I mean, I owe him a lot that he does this for me. I'm grateful for that."

"Yeah... Right. Grateful. Grateful with big, sparkling and hungry eyes-", Crowe said teasingly but got stopped by your elbow and in the next moment Nyx entered your kitchen to present himself. Crowe whistled, "Wow, look at this. I had no idea there could be a real gentleman underneath this gruff surface.", she said, which earned her an annoyed eye roll from the Glaive.

You smiled appreciatively, "Crowe has a point, tho. You look really great in this tuxedo.", you admitted. Indeed, Nyx had tried on the black tuxedo first and it was already a match. Because of the white suit shirt, his blue eyes seem to glow even more. His longer strands gave the tuxedo a nice, foreign touch you already liked, "If you ask me, you're done with testing. Is it comfortable?", you asked, checking the fit on his back.

"Yes, it's extremely comfortable. I had no idea it would fit so well.", Nyx admitted while the soft touch of your hands on his back gave him slight goosebumps.

"I'm not surprised. These are high-class tuxedos. They're very expensive. Don't worry, it's borrowed.", you explained as you saw Nyx' concerned expression, "No one should buy such things just for one evening. So, great. That was it. You're done. You can change again and then, dinner is ready. At least a little try to make it up to you and your time."

As Nyx disappeared in your bedroom once again, Crowe closed up on you with a smirk, "It's so good that I was right with my assumption that you two would fit together perfectly. And now, you will even have some eye candy to look at the whole evening. I'm the best friend you could ask for."

Instead of answering, you just rolled with your eyes even if she was right. But you wouldn't admit it out loud. Never.

*

"God, this was delicious, YN.", Crowe sighed satisfied as she leant back in her seat.

"I just can say the same. This was great. But if I may ask, what was it? I mean, I know the stuff you used but somehow the taste was … I never tasted like this before.", Nyx asked curiously. Whatever you had done, it was delicious but he never had found something similar in Insomnia before.

You chuckled, "Actually, it isn't something fancy. Vegetables, meat and rice. But the spices make the difference. You don't find these here in Insomnia. I got them from Lestallum. There's a huge market full of stands with spices and ingredients you won't find anywhere else. I like exotic stuff so this market is like a treasure."

While you had answered his question, Nyx was fascinated by the way your eyes started to glow in a new way. You were happy to talk about what you liked. Your happiness was contagious and made his heart jump. Nyx caught himself by the thought that this fake-date thingy wouldn't be as bad as he had thought in the beginning.

Crowe watched you and Nyx. She already saw the connection between you two and even if she respected your decision to be alone for a while after everything you had experienced, she saw that both of you were interested in each other. So, for her, it was the time to give you some space, "Oh, look. How late it got already. I have an early meeting tomorrow.", she said and jumped up from her seat, grabbing her jacket, "Thank you very much for this delicious meal and I wish you two a lot of fun tomorrow.", she said before she hurried out of your apartment.

Slightly speechless, you and Nyx looked after her. As Nyx met your eyes again, both of you were laughing. You looked at your clock on the wall, "Late my ass. We just have eight.", you pointed out while still laughing.

"You know what she's trying right?", Nyx asked with a grin.

"Of course. She's trying to set us up with each other."

Nyx shook his head with a grin, disbelieving that Crowe had pulled this trick, "And that although she knows that I don't want to date anyone.", he just said but regretted it immediately as he saw your face. It was a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Quickly, you tried to hide it behind a smile and that sight hurt Nyx even more than he thought, "Oh uhm... I- I didn't mean you... O-or this.. I.. I'm sorry, I...", he stumbled over his own words and cursed himself for speaking so mindlessly.

You waved with your hand to brush it aside with a weak smile, ignoring the disappointment, "Calm down. I know what you mean, Nyx. After what my ex had done, I'm also not much interested in dates. Don't forget that this will be just a fake date.", you said softly to reassure him before you collected a bunch of plates to be able to turn away from him.

But Nyx had seen the sparkling in your eyes that extremely resembled unshed tears. Once again, he cursed himself. Here he was, Nyx had promised to himself to protect you from everything that would happen at the wedding but was able to make you sad in his own way.

Quickly, he stood up, collecting the cutlery to go to your side, "Hey", Nyx said softly to get your attention, he smiled as you looked at him, "I'm sorry, YN. I didn't mean you at all. It's just...Crowe tried many times to matchmake me. It never ended well. I guess, it's because of my job as a Glaive. I try my best but... it's my work. I owe King Regis a lot for saving me. And I see myself forced to pay it back in protecting this city and its people."

"Don't apologize, Nyx. What you and the other Glaives are doing is honorable. Not everyone is able to cope with what you do all day for this city. If someone has a problem with that...well... it's just not the fitting person, I guess. The fitting person would always support you to make your life easier instead of making it more difficult.", you said and smiled.

Nyx was speechless about your caring words and your warm smile, "Thank you. You... I can see why Crowe cares so much about you. You're very sweet. And you know what? I'm looking forward to spending the day with you tomorrow."

You sniffled back a sob, "Thanks, Nyx. I'm sure it will be horrible tomorrow. Just the thought of seeing him makes me anxious right now. But to know you will be with me calms me already.", you admitted softly.

Nyx smiled but also wanted to change the heavy topic to something lighter, "So, about tomorrow. How shall we do it? Already have any plans?"

"Yeah, my idea was to pick you up but maybe it would be easier for you to come here so you don't have to carry the tuxedo around. I mean, if this would be okay for you?", you said while bringing Nyx to the front door.

"Sounds good. Oh, one thing. Shall I do something with my hair? It's not typical for Insomnian citizen-"

"No, please, don't!", you hurried but you looked away as you felt your cheeks blushing again.

Nyx chuckled, shooting you a smile as you looked back at him, "Don't worry. I won't change anything if you don't want to. I just want to make sure that you will have a nice day tomorrow."

***

The next day, Nyx knocked at your door as agreed. Once again he was excited to meet you. This time because he was looking forward to seeing you again. Usually, if Nyx was dreaming during the night, he had nightmares but the last night was filled with dreams about you. This morning, he was more rested and relaxed than ever before.

So, as you opened the door, Nyx was already smiling and happy but as he saw you, his smile faltered and his expression changed into staring, "Whoa, you look amazing.", he breathed.

Your small smile grew into something bigger that reached each of your ears, "Thank you. Come in.", you said excitedly and stepped aside to let Nyx into your apartment.

Ten minutes later, Nyx joined you in the kitchen, dressed in the tuxedo and ready. You prepared some coffee before the car would be there to pick you up, "So, what's scheduled for today?", he asked and closed the buttons on his cuffs. At least, he tried it.

You watched him fumbling for a few moments until you joined him for help, "In fact, everything's pretty timed. We will drive to the church were the wedding will be held. And after that we will drive further to the Caelum Via where the dinner and party will be. I just hope we can escape during the party when the official thing is over. So, it's done.", you said softly. Your fingers were brushing along Nyx' warm skin. You lingered a few seconds longer before you realized what you were doing.

Nyx felt the connection between you and him as well. Your touch was small, soft and warm and everything he wanted to feel again and again. As he saw your caught expression, he smiled at you to show you that it was okay and he saw that you understood.

Coffee, smalltalk and just being with each other let the time run too fast and as your doorbell rang for the arriving car you felt annoyed because this, with Nyx, was pure fun.

Nyx noticed the change in you and placed his hand on yours, "I will be with you all the time. Or, I will be close to you. You're not alone in this, okay?"

You nodded reluctantly but forced yourself to smile. And with Nyx by your side, you left your apartment for the worst day ever in your life.

*

But Nyx stuck to his word and was with you. The car brought you to the church and he was about to leave the limousine as he noticed that you weren't moving at all. Ignoring the driver's glance, he leant over to you, avoiding touching you in fear to scare you, "YN?"

You stared out of the side window. There was the church, the church you wanted to marry in one day. Not exactly your ex but generally. Flowers were decorated everywhere and between the different colorful plants stood your family. Your mother, your dad, both of your aunts and uncles and Matt...your ex.

Nyx followed your gaze and saw the group of people. Even without asking he knew it had to be your family, considering the fact how you were looking at them. Nyx noticed the younger guy in the festive attire and knew instinctively that it had to be the groom. The guy was tall, slim fit and looked like a lot of money. But the way he moved and talked was easy to dislike because he looked snobbish. Nyx saw your distress and felt sorry. He could just imagine what you were feeling right now, "Listen, we can go if you want.", Nyx suggested softly.

You shook your head, "I can't. We're family. My mother would kill me."

Nyx sighed low, "I know family is important but... you're also important. And if you think you can't handle this under these circumstances then it's okay. You don’t have to."

Slowly, you looked at him, already thankful to have him by your side, "I can do that. I have to."

Nyx nodded, accepting your determination before he left the car. The driver opened your door and as you left the car as well, Nyx was already waiting for you, offering you his arm to link your own with it.

As you two closed up on the group of your family members, your mother was the first to spot you. Suddenly, Nyx noticed a slight change in your behavior. You straightened yourself, you held your head high but the grip on Nyx' arm also became stronger.

"Darling! You look great.", your mother said, grabbing your shoulders to kiss you left and right of your face without touching your skin.

As she leant back, you saw the huge, happy smile on her lips that only money could produce, "Mother, you look lovely. The whole decoration is breathtaking.", you said with a huge smile.

It was fake. Nyx could already spot the difference because the smile didn't reach your bright eyes. Then, your mother's attention shifted over to Nyx and he swallowed thickly by the sight of her mustering glance at his appearance.

You noticed her glance as well and stepped in, "Oh, right. Mother, this is Nyx. Nyx, this is my beloved mother."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.", Nyx said politely and even bowed a little.

Internally, you grinned about her surprised expression because she never had expected such good manners with a guy who had Nyx' looks. You knew her well enough to know what she thought.

"It's a pleasure for me. Where have you two met if I may ask?", your mother asked.

You knew it was a test and you knew how to play this game, "Through a friend. Nyx is working for King Regis."

"For the King? That's amazing."

You saw the sparkling in your mother's eyes but before she could say anything else, you took Nyx' arm to guide him away, "Excuse us, we will go inside. Searching for our seats.", you said and without waiting, you passed the group to go into the church.

As you two were out of earshot from your family, Nyx leant to you, "That was smooth."

You grinned, "Have you seen her eyes as I mentioned the King? That was pure greed. It doesn't matter if it is money or prestige. She loves it. I'm sure she thinks you're a member of the royal family. And that's the reason why it's okay for everyone that my cousin marries Matt. He's a doctor. A high-paid surgeon. Money and prestige.", you explained.

As you and Nyx sat down, a thought struck his mind. He was just not sure if he should ask or not-

"You wanna know how I could land him?", you said as you saw Nyx' glance.

"No, not how you could land him. Rather...what you saw in him. I don't know you for long but...such a guy? I'm not sure if he suits you well…"

You nodded, "Yeah...trust me, now? I know that, too. But as we met, he was…", you stopped as you remembered the early time with Matt, "We met accidentally in a bookstore. Somehow, we ended in the same row of bookshelves and he bumped into me. Obviously, he liked me so he invited me for coffee. I agreed because he can be extremely charming. But if I think about it now, we never had something in common. I was imagining things and was blinded by his looks. Although ...well…recently, I've met a guy who is more handsome than Matt will ever be."

Nyx knew you meant him. In the way you had said it and how you looked at him told him whom you meant. Nyx' heart skipped a beat by the thought of how you saw him. In his eyes, it wasn't fair. Here he was, sitting next to you, starting to like you. He was attracted to you and still, he didn't want to have any love interest. It always ended badly and that was the last thing he wanted for you. Nyx wanted to say something, to lower your interest in him, but the wedding started and cut him off.

*

The ceremony was beautiful and romantic. You had to admit that even if you hated it. Your cousin looked wonderful and as they both brought up their vows in a solemn way, you had to suppress a tear because it was sweet and lovely what they swore to each other. Just the point 'I will never love someone else next to you' from Matt caused you to roll with your eyes. It was pathetic.

Most of the time, Nyx tried to stay focused on the wedding but it wasn't easy. His brain was busy with different things. On the one hand, he searched for a way to keep you on distance but whenever he had an idea, Nyx asked himself 'why?'. Why should he stay away from you when you were interested in him? He was interested in you, too. You were attractive, sweet and nice but also hurt. The last thing Nyx wanted was to take advantage of your sore emotions or to be the reason to get hurt even more.

"Nyx?"

Your voice brought him back to reality and he realized that the church emptied slowly, "Sorry, I was thinking about something."

"Totally get it. This wedding was...I don't know. Maybe it was the sweetest thing I have ever seen or the most hypocritical. But no matter what it was, it's over now."

"Then, if I may?", Nyx asked and offered you his arm once again.

Smiling, you took his arm and walked down the aisle with Nyx to leave the church.

*

As you reached the festive decorated ballroom of the Caelum Via, Nyx wasn't surprised anymore. You had told him that your family and even Matt's had a lot of money and they loved to show it. But even if you were dressed in something expensive and even if you knew how to act properly amongst all the other high society people, Nyx noticed that it wasn't really your world. You had been forced into it by blood and family relations.

You introduced Nyx to everyone you met on your way to your table. And not for one second, Nyx felt misplaced by you. You even gave him the feeling as if you were proud to have him by your side.

"Holy six, we have made it.", you sighed as you slumped down on a seat of the table you were aiming for, "Once again, I have to thank you."

Nyx smiled softly, "But I've done nothing."

"You're here. You're by my side. And you're not running away after meeting my family. You keep me sane. I would say you do enough."

Nyx watched you but he was sure he was right with his assumption, "You don't have the best bond with your family, do you?"

You chuckled dryly, "No, not really. It's better now but...I haven't become a lawyer like everyone else, tho. I mean, even my mother had been a secretary in a law office. There, she met my dad, who’s a lawyer. Like my uncles."

"So, you're kinda the black sheep?", Nyx asked amused and saw himself as confirmed: this world was not yours.

"Oh, yeah. You have no idea. That I dated Matt had raised my prestige in their eyes but…", you stopped as Matt and your cousin entered the ballroom under loud cheering, "I have no idea what I was for him. Time distraction? Toy? I mean, we had fun and I feel so stupid for not seeing anything coming."

Nyx had no idea what he should say to comfort you. Maybe there was even no way to comfort you at all. Things like this needed time to heal. But somehow Nyx got the impression that you were stronger than you seemed to be right now.

You wanted to say something but your mother and dad joined your table and gone was the calmness you had felt during the last few moments.

"Darling, have you congratulated Matt and your cousin?", your mother said, placing one hand on your shoulder and one on Nyx'.

That touch looked more possessive than you liked to see, "Of course, I did.", you said with a charming smile.

"Wonderful! Wasn't the wedding a dream? And the vows! I really had to suppress a tear."

"Yes, mother, it was wonderful.", you agreed.

"And you, Nyx? Everything's-", but your mother got called over by your aunts and excused himself again. Even your dad excused himself again.

Nyx waited till she was out of earshot before he turned over to you, "You haven't congratulated them, have you?"

"Of course not.", you said with a huge grin that made Nyx chuckling. You liked the way he smiled. You already liked his presence. He was calm and quiet but knew how to tell his stories to entertain you.

Quickly, the dinner got served and was done and the last part of this circus started: the party. You knew you couldn't leave right away. Even if you wanted to run away as far as you could, it wouldn't look too good. So, you stayed until you would find a good moment to escape.

"Hey, you wanna get some fresh air?", Nyx asked as he saw how you were watching Matt dancing with his partner closely to a slow, romantic song.

Like awakening from a trance, you blinked with your eyes and nodded as you looked at Nyx and his warm, encouraging smile. As you stepped out, you breathed in the fresh breeze with closed eyes.

Once again, Nyx caught himself staring at you in a fascinated way. While you walked across the balcony to the handrail, Nyx followed you slowly and thanked Crowe silently that he had met you, "How do you feel? You're still okay?", he asked carefully.

You turned over to him, "Yes. Yes, I'm feeling good. As I watched them dance, I noticed the way Matt looked at my cousin. He never looked at me this way and I'm… I'm getting okay with it. If they're happy then I don't care. Maybe this wedding was the right cure."

Nyx was impressed how strong you really were. He was sure that you were still hurt but it looked as if you were on the right way.

"Can I ask you something?", you asked, gnawing on your lower lip.

"Of course. I'm at your service no matter what it is. So, what do you desire to know about me?", Nyx said solemnly and smirked as he heard you chuckling.

"I know Crowe can use the King's magic. So, I guess, all Glaives are able to do that?"

"Yes. That's why we're members of the Kingsglaive. Not everyone is able to use these powers so, just the 'best' or talented of the refugees get picked out.", Nyx explained.

You nodded slowly, "It's too bad that refugees get used to fighting battles to secure this city instead of the citizens who actually live here.", you said while letting your eyes roam over the skyline of Insomnia.

"I'm okay with that. I mean, Niflheim attacked my home, Magiteks killed my family. If I can fight against them, I know I do the right thing. Taking revenge. At least as good as I can.", Nyx said low and also watched the scene in front of him.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Crowe told me about it once. Nothing much, just a few things. Is… Is this also the reason why you try to keep people away from you? In fear you could lose them as well?", you asked carefully. Maybe you were too bold but you felt a connection to Nyx that gave you the courage to ask these things.

With a sad expression, Nyx nodded. He was surprised that you had figured him out this quickly but maybe he wasn't such a riddle or you were really attentive when it came to him, "Yeah... you're not so wrong. I know how it feels to lose loved ones so I don't wanna put someone else through this as well. And as a Glaive things can turn bad really quickly.", he said and watched your reaction.

"I guess you're right."

Nyx nodded and felt an unknown pain stinging his heart that you thought like this as well.

"But", you started again, looking straight into Nyx eyes, "I got to know you a little bit today. Trust me, I understand your point but as I said yesterday, the right person wouldn't see a problem with that. I mean… you shouldn't be alone Nyx. No one should. And if you think life is so short for you, you should stop being alone and start to make the best out of the time you still have.", you whispered.

Without noticing, Nyx had closed up on you forced by your words. Unknowingly, you had hit a point: he was alone...rather he was lonely. He felt lonely when he was done with the training and went back to his empty home. He felt lonely when he came back after an exhausting fight on the battlefield. When he felt lonely, the flashbacks and nightmares became worse and darker. These were the times where he wished to have someone by his side who would be there for him. Who would drag him out of the darkness because their light was so much brighter than every shadow would ever be. Bright like your glowing eyes and your charming smile.

Slowly, Nyx leant forward and raised his hand without thinking about it. He just wanted to feel your skin under his touch. Softly, he placed his hand on your cheek and saw your surprise but you stayed where you were as if you wanted him to continue. Driven by your alluring scent, he closed the gap slowly and-

SCREESH!!!

The cry of a bird that flew above your heads let both of you jump away from each other. You and Nyx were breathing heavily while you two recovered from the shock. You smoothed down your clothes to distract yourself while Nyx ran a hand through his hair to do the same.

The situation became awkward but Nyx wanted to show you that everything was alright. At the same time, he wanted to show himself that everything was still alright between you and him, "Hey...uhm… You wanna see some magic?", he asked softly, almost shy.

You smiled, thankfully that Nyx had sensed the awkward tension, "I would love to.", you said while still recovering from the surprise that Nyx wanted to kiss you. Not that you would have stopped him…

Nyx grinned and raised his right hand. He showed you the bare palm and in the next moment, sizzling flames were dancing over his skin as if they were following a rhythm no one could hear. Nyx checked your reaction and was pleased as he saw your sparkling eyes, illuminated by the flames, and the growing smile.

Fascinated, you watched the flames. You felt the urge to touch them but as you closed up on the flames with your forefinger, you already felt the warmth so, you retreated your hand again, "It's hot! I don't know why I'm surprised but… Don't they hurt you?", you asked concerned.

Nyx chuckled, "No, not at all. If you can use elementary magic, you're safe. It's just painful for your enemy.", he said with a grin and was happy to see you smile again.

"Can you just produce fire? Or is there more?", you asked excitedly, totally hooked about the fact how cool this skill was.

"Two more. Lightning", Nyx said and killed the flames by closing his hand before his fist got enveloped by small, twitching bolts that ran across his hand like busy worms. But they became a bit too fast and 'overexcited' and Nyx casted them away before something could get hit by them, "And then, there's ice.", he said and changed the bolts into a subtle fog.

You leant forward to look closer but even in the dim light from the candles and the light coming from the ballroom, you noticed small, sparkling ice particles which were swirling through the fog. Whenever light hit them, they were glittering in every possible color like a prism, "I- I… that's so beautiful. I mean, it sparkles like millions of diamonds."

Nyx chuckled, he never had seen the magic he used on a daily basis as what it actually was: magic. It was something not many people could control. It was indeed something special, usually just reserved for the royal family and yet, he was also able to produce ice and let your smile grow even bigger than before as you had seen the fire, “I don’t know but I guess to see the world through your eyes must be wonderful. You seem to be delighted by the smallest things.”, Nyx said low but smiled as you looked up with a now shy smile on your lips.

“Life is more than just money and prestige. We are surrounded by wonders barely someone sees anymore. I mean, for example in Lestallum, the city uses the energy of a meteor that lies there for centuries. You should see the magical view by night. The golden and blue light dancing into the sky. I swear you never had seen something like this before.”, you said excitedly and once again, you noticed how Nyx was staring at you. It wasn’t unpleasant. Rather quite the opposite. It was a silly thought but somehow you had the feeling that Nyx could see more in you than just a little flirt and a nice kiss at some wedding.

It was crazy. As Crowe told you Nyx would be your type of man, you had laughed about it. After everything Matt had done you needed a break from dates and men and love and all these things. You didn’t want to quit it forever just a little longer but obviously your friend saw it differently and silently, you already thanked her.

Once again, Nyx was mesmerized by you. The way you saw things. How you looked at the world. How you looked at him. He was sure you weren’t flawless - no one was. But no matter what kind of flaws you would have, he wouldn’t care about it. He would deal with everything as long as he could keep you in his life. Giving him the magic he had lost somewhere in his life. Maybe you could be friends or … maybe even something more.

Nyx killed the ice and once again, he leant in for another attempt to kiss you. The moment was perfect again. The way you looked into his eyes and how your lips slightly parted told him what he needed to know - you wanted the same. So, he stepped closer, cupping your face with both hands softly as if you were made out of glass and while you leant forward to meet him on the half way, Nyx leant forward to kiss you-

"Hey, YN, can we talk for a moment- Oh! I’m sorry. Did I interrupt something?", Matt asked and grinned amused as he saw you and Nyx jumping away from each other like caught teenagers.

You cursed internally because it was the second interrupted kiss and you had no idea how many times Nyx would try his luck considering the fact that he even was willing to go this step at all.

Nyx saw that you were annoyed. And he felt the same. He had noticed that you wanted the kiss as well so it was clear for him to try it again but maybe all the interruptions were just signs for him to let it slip? Maybe he shouldn’t try his luck because he was still the Glaive who could die during the next battle. He looked from you at Matt who closed up slowly no matter if his timing had been good or not. And suddenly, Nyx saw that the guy had done this on purpose. He saw it in Matt’s gleaming eyes and in his smirk that he was amused about the fact to humiliate you once again. But as you had said before, he was part of your family now and maybe Matt just wanted to apologize or something. So, Nyx did the only logical thing that came to his mind, "Is it okay for you? I will get something to drink for us then.", he asked carefully, watching your reaction.

You weren’t amused about the idea to be alone with Matt but you nodded. You understood that Nyx might need a break. You waited till Nyx was gone before you crossed your arms over your chest, “You wanted to talk?”

"Yeah, this guy… Tell me, what did you have to pay him so that he would accompany you to this wedding as your date? I’m sure he’s a stripper or something like this. Poor soul-", the loud slap into his face let Matt stop in his sentence. While holding his stinging cheek, he looked back at you, surprised that you were even able to have such a power.

With raging eyes, you stared at him, standing your ground in front of him for the first time. All the anger and sadness you had felt had laid in this one single slap and even if you were no fan of violence, you noticed how relieving this had felt. It had been long overdue, "Don't you ever dare to talk like that about him ever again. He's a Glaive! Protecting you and everyone else in this city with his life."

"Oh, interesting! So, he's just a refugee? He’s not from here? Fascinating with what kind of people you spent your time with. Your mother will be pleased to know that.", Matt said with a smirk, turning around to go back into the ballroom to find your mother.

You called Matt back and he stopped, looking expecting at you with one raised brow. You saw the surprise about your courage in his eyes but the thing was your strength was never gone you just had forgotten to use it. You just needed a trigger to get back to your old self and Matt had found this point without knowing it. So, you stepped forward, keeping eye contact until you stood right under Matt’s nose. With a low but serious voice and a lopsided smirk on your lips you said: "You know, it doesn't matter what he is or not. It doesn’t matter what you or anyone else will think. He’s a soldier and it’s honorable. It doesn’t matter where Nyx comes from. And besides, Galahd was a beautiful, magical and unique place before Niflheim decided to destroy this jewel. No matter what you will do or say to whomever, Nyx will always be more of a man than you will ever be in your entire life, you little, lying cheater.", you said and ended your little speech with a sweet grin as you saw Matt’s shocked and surprised expression.

As you watched satisfied how Matt disappeared back into the ballroom and into the world he belonged to, your eyes landed on Nyx who stood there in the door frame with two drinks in his hands and staring right at you with big eyes.

With a soft, warm smile you walked over to Nyx, taking one of the drinks from his hands, “So, you heard what I said, I guess?”

“Y-yeah, actually every single word.”, he whispered, still not believing what you had said about him, “You had defended me in front of him. I- I mean, I have no idea what he did so you would react like this but … it was impressive to watch and … flattering.”, Nyx said honestly.

You nodded before you gulped down the stiff drink in one go to calm your nerves, “You know, to talk back to this asshole was long overdue. And … as long as he was attacking me it was okay but you … You don’t deserve this. Never. From no one. And mostly not from one person in this room.”, you said and somehow Nyx’ eyes were sparkling even more. Emotions were staring back at you which seemed to be buried away for a very long time.

Nyx, who was still flashed by you, closed the small gap, cupped your face and leant down to kiss you and this time, it worked. As he felt your warm, soft lips, he couldn’t believe it. An emotionally lightning shot though his body and electrified him within seconds as if he had been dead before for years. Your lips tasted as sweet as he had imagined and that you moved along with him gave him goosebumps.

Your heart skipped a beat as Nyx kissed you. It was perfect. It was the only way you could describe this whole scene: as perfect. Nyx’ full lips were warm and demanding in a sensual way. He kissed you not to say something he couldn’t find words rather because he just wanted you. To pull him closer, you grabbed into his suit shirt and jacket what caused Nyx to chuckle about your eagerness but you didn’t care. Like a thirsty plant for water, you were thirsty to taste more of Nyx.

Slowly, the kiss increased as both of you opened your mouths to taste each other's tongues, exploring each other. Nyx still tasted the stiff alcohol on you and breathed in your breath while deepening the kiss. He moved his hand from your face down to your back to pull you closer-

“YN! That’s not appropriate behavior for a wedding!”, your mother called out.

Slowly, you left Nyx’ lips, not seeing any reason to hurry at all. With a stupid grin you looked into the most perfect blue eyes you had ever seen which were sparkling with so much fire and joy as if their light had been rekindled after a very long sleep.

Nyx matched your grin and was still holding you in his arm, snaked firmly around your waist, not ready to let you go just now. Gently, he nudged your nose with his own, “What do you want to do now, YN? Any plans?”, he asked.

“We will leave this place. Together. Come on, Glaive.”, you said, taking his hand in yours to leave the balcony. As you passed your mother, who stared at you in shock, you said: “Goodnight mother, we will leave. Usually, I would say ‘it was a nice evening’ but that would be a lie.”, you said and stepped forward before you stopped once again, “Oh, and I didn’t congratulate the bridal couple because, well, for reasons. But I’m sure they will be happy together. Something tells me they deserve each other.”, and with that said, you left the wedding with Nyx.

Your mother was calling after you but you ignored her. But if you would have turned around one last time, you would have seen how your dad was grinning and cheering for you because in his eyes, you had done the best move possible.

*

While the driver of the limousine drove the two of you back to your place, none of you said something. You were just cuddling. As Nyx had entered the car, you had scooted over to him immediately, leaning your head against his chest while he laid his arm around your shoulders. You had intertwined your fingers with his and with your thumb you drew small patterns on his skin while you were smiling stupidly.

Nyx followed his own thoughts while burying his nose into your hair to breathe in your scent. But none of his thoughts were dark anymore. Rather, he asked himself why he had withdrawn himself the whole time and thought he would do the right thing? The only one he was punishing was himself and with you, he realized that he had done it far too long. The first kiss had been enough to spark the dying flame of all his hopes and dreams again. But the flame wasn’t just some smoldering. It was a roaring fire that filled his chest with all the emotions he had sealed somewhere deep all these times before. Just one kiss with you had been able to break this firm seal.

There was no turning back and Nyx would fight like on the battlefield to let this fire burn till he would die…

Still cuddled to Nyx’ side, he brought you to your floor and to the apartment door. You were about to open the door which would mean the end of the night as you turned around, flinging your both arms around Nyx’ neck to kiss him longingly.

Nyx didn’t need to get asked twice. He pressed you against the door, letting his hands roam over the fabric of your clothes to get a first feeling of your curves while he noticed how your fingers found their way into his hair. You played with the longer strands, tracing down the braids and stopping at the beads you found. Alone this touch was enough to make Nyx hungry for more.

You were surprised how soft his greyish hair really was. The whole evening you had asked yourself how Nyx’ hair would feel between your fingers but reality was so much better than what you had thought. Unfortunately, your lungs demanded oxygen and so, just very reluctantly, you left Nyx’ lips. He rested his forehead against your and was as breathless as you were but he was also grinning. Still playing with his hair, you pushed yourself to ask the question you wanted to ask, “You… Would you like to come in?”, you asked hopefully that he would say yes. For you, the night was still not over.

Nyx leant back, looked into your eyes and chuckled before he smirked about your confusion, “Of course, I want to come in. My clothes are still in your apartment. Remember?”, he teased.

“Oh, right… your clothes.”, you said, grinning from ear to ear, “How inconvenient this coincidence is.”, you teased back.

“Just open the door and I’m sure your clothes will join mine pretty soon.”

***

Two months later…

You stood in your kitchen, preparing the morning coffee as you did every day. The rising morning sun was illuminating your apartment in a magical, golden light. It was this kind of light and the smell of the brewing hot liquid that made it easy for you to lose track of your thoughts. Just two strong arms around your middle brought you back to reality and conjured a lovestruck smile on your lips.

You turned around in the arms to face Nyx who was matching your smile even if it was a tired one. Even his hair was tousled and so, you smoothed down the long, stubborn strands before you pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, “Good morning, handsome.”, you whispered.

“Morning, babe. I missed you in bed. I wanted to cuddle.”, he said, pouting.

You chuckled softly, feeling sorry to disappoint him, “I know but I have this important call in an hour and have to do a few things before- hey! Let me down! Nyx!”, you shrieked, laughing by surprise. Nyx had grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder. With you hanging upside down, he carried you back to the bedroom. You bounced slightly as Nyx let you carefully down on the mattress, “Nyx, come on. I don’t have time.”, you chuckled while he was crawling on top of you, kissing along all the bare skin of yours he could find.

“You said one hour. That gives me still forty minutes to have some fun with you. And then, you will still have some time to prepare whatever you want.”, Nyx said between a bunch of hot kisses along your collarbone before he continued over your neck, your weak spot he had figured out really quick.

You sighed, obeying him and his lips as you always did when he was in this kind of mood. It were two months you dated Nyx and it was still thrilling like in the beginning, “But this call is important. It’s with my dad. You know, because of the contracts I need for the refugee foundation.”, you moaned while Nyx bit into your neck. It was already difficult for you to keep your thoughts straight.

Nyx leant back, looking at you with a smirk, “With your dad, huh? He will understand it if you need some extra time. Don’t forget that he likes me. A lot. So, stop trying to resist me. It’s not even working. Just obey me and my lips.”, he breathed, leaning down, “I know you want me.”, Nyx whispered and kissed you passionately that you melted underneath him. Like you always did.

*

And Nyx was right. You were delayed and you apologized a hundred times to your dad but as you mentioned Nyx, your dad was understanding and brushed it off with a smile and a bunch of questions about Nyx and how he would be doing. In fact, since the wedding two months ago, your whole life had taken a complete turn.

After the wedding, Nyx stayed the night. And the next night. And the night after that. Quickly, the two of you had developed a deep, loving and strong relationship and three weeks later, you followed your heart: you had asked Nyx to move in with you. You didn't need much persuasion because Nyx was looking forward to being able to spend more time with you.

Your mother had called you after the wedding, scolding you for your behavior and how you could dare to bring a refugee as a date. But quickly, you gave her a talk about how bigoted she was and that she had to be more open minded if she wanted to keep you in her life. Very slowly, she realized that you meant what you said and gave in. She needed a bit more time but after a while she started to like Nyx, too.

It was helpful that your dad liked Nyx from the start. After the wedding, your dad had called you to congratulate you for your impressive act in front of your mother before you had left. In fact, he also had heard your little speech you had given Matt as you had defended Nyx and was proud about this as well. You had been speechless because til this day, you never had thought your dad would be proud about anything you ever did. And because the ice was broken between you and him, you talked about everything.

So, three weeks after the wedding, as you, Nyx, Pelna, Libertus and Crowe sat at Yamachang’s, you came up with an idea. You loved spending time with Nyx, Crowe and the others. You loved being in the underground of Insomnia where the refugees were living. You loved the different foods and the music, the atmosphere was unique and exotic but the circumstances the refugees had to live in were questionable. So, you had the idea to do something against it. You were already a big fan of the different cultures and you were convinced Insomnia would benefit as a city if it would use this unknown knowledge.

And with the help and support of your dad, who was hooked by your idea immediately, you started and planned a foundation to help the refugees. The infrastructure of the underground had to be changed and some things had to get modernised while the heart and the soul of everything had to be preserved.

You never congratulated Matt on his wedding and if he was at family meetings, you just refused to come as well. Your mother was raging. Your dad had your back with the most creative excuses. But now and then, when you were awake at night, and while you were watching Nyx sleeping next to you peacefully, you thanked Matt for cheating on you. Otherwise, you would never have found this treasure of a man who had turned your world upside down.

You never thanked Crowe for setting you up with Nyx and you didn’t have to because you knew she was already proud of her matchmaking skills. To see two of her best friends finding happiness and love in each other was enough regard for her.

Because in the end, she had done nothing more than finding a fake date for you, a friend in need…

[astralaffairs]

put a ring on it 05 | philip hamilton

title: put a ring on it 05

pairing: philip hamilton x reader

words: 9.5k

warnings: another stupid cliffhanger, death mentions?, not much tbh

desc: You’ve never liked Philip Hamilton, and have always assumed the feeling has been mutual. But when you’re roped into pretending to be his girlfriend for a family reunion, you feel all your truths beginning to melt away, and find them instead taking form in his smile.

tags: @beepbeepstop @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @tf2germanvillain @ela-ena @abundant-stars @heytheredee-lilah @katierpblogg @thisshitfucks @celyndavies @quixoticallydelusional @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @yxseminx @sadhwstudent @aiifandomsunite @loonaynay @valleryhyde @lxncelot @checkurwindow @katierpblogg @alievans007@nyxie75 @ii-moonlight-ii @sothisishappiness @ems-alexandra @elegantbutedgy @maxi-ride @moose-on-the-l00se @itshaileyn @someinsanefangirl @theirishhufflepuff @golddiggs-x @drreamhugs @sillyteecup @notebookgirl30 @marvelouslyemily @checkurwindow @kmsmedine - lmk if u wanna b added

"Patsy, you've gotta help me. I'm freaking out."

You were slumped on the floor of the Hamiltons' bathroom by then, praying that no one would come and knock, ask to use it. To your relief, when you called, Patsy picked up the phone without hesitation - she'd been on alert, waiting for your SOS all weekend. However, the emergency call you were making didn't quite match the one she was expecting.

"Oh, god; what'd he do?" your roommate groaned from the other end of the line. "Am I gonna need to kick his ass the minute you two get back to town?"

"Shockingly, no," you mumbled, letting out a soft huff as your absent gaze fell to the green wall before you. "I... have a much different problem."

"What, did you fuck one of his cousins? Did the woman who offered to be your sugar mama a while back end up being his aunt?" Despite your state of panic, her words made you smile as you rolled your eyes. "Wait, holy shit, did you fuck him?"

You grimaced at her final question. While it didn't hit the mark, it was far too close to it for your comfort. "No, I absolutely did not."

"So what's the issue, then?"

"I... oh, god, you're definitely gonna make fun of me for this," you sighed, and Patsy didn't respond, instead waiting for you to continue. When you did, your voice was small, shaky. "I think I like him, Patsy. I really think I like him."

There was a skip.

"I'm sorry, is this some kind of a prank?"

"Patsy," you groaned, your head falling back against the bathroom wall, and she was quick to backtrack.

"No, no, I'm happy for you; don't get me wrong," she said quickly, pausing before she added, "I'm just surprised. What happened?"

"I don't even know. I just... he's really not the person I thought he was. So much of what I thought I knew about him was off base," you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. "How was I supposed to know he was secretly all caring and thoughtful? And he's so good with kids; god, it's adorable. Too much has changed this weekend; my head is spinning. I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, keep in mind that there's a reason he asked you to come home with him," she said matter-of-factly, and you furrowed your brow.

"What d'you mean?"

"Y/N," she sighed, "You two weren't friends. There was no world in which you would've agreed to be his cover story, but he still told his family he was dating you. You really don't think that was a little bit intentional?"

You scoffed. "Are you implying that he was projecting?"

"If the shoe fits."

"Patsy, it wasn't pointed; it was just convenient," you argued, pulling your knees into your chest, tucking the phone between your shoulder and your ear. "I'm his coworker. There are pictures of me and him together at work. I live far enough from the Hamiltons that it was easy to excuse the fact that I'd never met them."

"You're not his only coworker," Patsy replied, and you rolled your eyes at how certain she sounded.

"So who's to say I wasn't chosen at random?"

"Me. You spent years openly resenting him. You would've been the least convenient person in your office for him to pick," she pointed out, and you pursed your lips, playing absentmindedly with the edge of the shag carpet on the bathroom floor.

"I'm also the least insufferable," you replied. "Not to be anti-woman, or anything, but I don't have a single female coworker who I could spend a weekend with without going insane."

"Okay, so you can agree that he doesn't find you insufferable."

"That's a low, low bar."

"But don't you find it even a little bit weird?" You bit your lip at her words, and your brow was furrowed but your gaze empty. "Why would he need a fake girlfriend to begin with?"

That, however, made you wince. Even just hours before, you may not have known how to answer, but- "Actually, I have a hunch about that."

"Oh?"

"Unfortunately." You resented the sound of your own voice shaking as you remembered the scene you'd just fled, and apparently, any respite the phone call provided from the sinking feeling in your stomach was long gone. "His ex is here. She's crazy pretty, and she's totally sweet, and she's obviously still into him. She's even my dream girl. I think he asked me here to make her jealous."

There was a pause on her end of the line; all you received was static as she let out a sigh. "See, I don't buy that."

"Why not? It'd make perfect sense," you said irately. "He seemed to really want me to meet her, and, God, you shoud've seen how excited he looked to see her."

"If she's a family friend, you shouldn't be surprised that they're still on good terms. Haven't you ever stayed friends with any of your exes?"

"Not like that." You swallowed hard; Patsy couldn't see it, but your eyes were sullen, downcast as you recalled the interaction. Jesus, you'd been so stupid to get attached to him; it hadn't even been three days. You really, really should've seen something like this coming. You'd long known Philip to be self-interested, why should this be any different?

But he'd had no one to perform for when he'd spent the whole afternoon with you coddling his niece and nephew. He couldn't prove anything to anyone by the fact that you'd woken up in his arms two mornings in a row. He had nowhere to invoke how protective he'd been as his family dragged you this way and that, interrogating you all the while.

You realized you'd let your call go silent for several moments too long. "I dunno. It's just too complicated. I don't know what to think of any of it."

When she sighed, you recoiled at the loud rush of static that came from your phone. "I know you're not gonna like hearing this, but you need to talk to him."

"How the hell am I supposed to talk to him about this?"

"Be upfront. I'm serious, Y/N; your reservations about what you're feeling are all just you self-sabotaging, and you well know it." Though she wasn't wrong, her words left you on edge - if you were upfront with him, you hadn't a single clue how he'd react. "I know you haven't let yourself fall for anyone since John, but-"

"Please don't bring him into this," you said, the words weary. Patsy had known you for years; she could hear the grief building in the back of your throat before you could swallow it. She paused before speaking, and when she did, her voice was much softer.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean to, but..." You braced yourself for her to continue, your jaw tight. "It's the truth. It's been years. Don't you think it's time for you to stop holding yourself back from living?"

Your sigh was heavy; you would've even chalked it up as being born somewhat of your dramatics if not for the despair you couldn't stop from building in your voice when you responded. "Maybe it is. But I'm not ready to get hurt." The words were almost a whisper, as tearful as any cry. "I... I didn't even like Philip until two days ago; who's to say this won't just pass in another two?"

"I can't make that call for you, love," she replied, tone sympathetic. "But, please, don't self-sabotage out of fear. You deserve so much better than that."

"But I am afraid," you said, and you drew in a shaky breath. "How could I not be?"

"You've been working past all your fears for years, now. Years. It's time to stop being afraid."

"I..." you started, but you trailed off, knowing that putting up a fight wouldn't get you anywhere from there. "Thanks, Patsy. I think that, for now, I just need to clear my head. I don't want to do anything I'll regret."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything else. Love you, Y/N."

At that, you gave a watery smile. "Love you, too."

You didn't move from your spot on the floor until the incessant drone of the dial tone into your ear became unbearable.

It was only minutes later that, after you'd exited the bathroom, flushed the toilet and washed your hands for good measure despite not having used it, ran almost directly back into Philip. He was in the dining room, chatting with Maria when you found him - or, really, when he found you.

You were hesitant to approach the pair, but when Philip noticed you, you could see him cut himself off mid-sentence, muttering something more to her before he made his way across the room to you.

"Hey, Hamilton." You offered him a weak smile, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when are we back to 'Hamilton,' hm?"

"Sorry. Just what I'm used to," you mumbled, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Still?"

You shrugged. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Alright, princess." He shook his head lightly, amusement written into his smile. "Where have you been? When I came in to find you, you weren't around."

Again, you shrugged. You were on edge, suddenly seeming to be at a complete loss for words. "I just ran to the bathroom. I'm back now," you said lamely, and he grinned.

"I can see that. You wanna come with me to get something to eat?"

You took a deep breath, trying your best to settle your fresh batch of nerves, and you nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." He tipped his head toward the kitchen, and when you started in his direction, he reached over, looped an arm around your waist as he began to walk with you, but the sudden contact made your skin jump. You tensed in his hold, and he glanced over to you with a furrowed brow, concern written deep in his expression. "You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

He pursed his lips. "You're sure?"

"Of course. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." He didn't seem convinced, though, as he looked her over once more. "Can we talk later? In private?"

You could feel your heart rate begin to pick up with the hesitance in his voice; your mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. You managed a tight smile and nodded; his expression didn't change. "So, dinner?"

-------

The next hour was tense. You couldn't avoid Philip's skeptical, sidelong glances; you couldn't avoid how you shrunk away every time he came just inches too close for comfort.

The past few days had become comfortable, a difference you couldn't help but find pleasant, but it was a change so gradual you almost hadn't noticed — that is, until it came rushing toward you all at once. You were constantly on edge, and his concern only seemed to grow. You tried to relax, but your nerves wouldn't let you, not as you questioned every fleeting touch, every lopsided smile.

Within an hour, nearly all of the family had been herded back outside, something you didn't mind in the least — the overcrowded lawn gave you an easy excuse to ignore Philip, focusing your energy on his little cousins and siblings. (You and Eliza Jr. had established quite the rapport; she'd provided the imaginary tea and cookies and was now filling you in on all the real tea in her brunch circle, including the failed marriage between her Barbie and her stuffed crocodile. It'd been toxic for both of them, or so you were told.)

As hard as you tried to forget the unfortunate epiphany that afternoon had brought you to, it remained perpetually at the surface of your mind, coloring every one of your interactions with Philip. His concern appeared to be unavoidable, too.

"Hey, princess."

You jumped at the feeling of Philip's hand coming to rest on your shoulder, tearing you from your scintillating conversation with your new four-year-old (tea) drinking buddy. You glanced back at him with wide eyes, a hand on your chest as though to still the rapid thumping of your heart, and he stood there with an eyebrow raised.

"Jesus. You can't just scare me like that," you said, seemingly winded, and he only laughed.

"My sincerest apologies."

"Oh, I'm sure."

He swung a folding chair out from the table behind you, turning it so he could sit beside you, facing his little sister with a grin. "So, what have you and Y/N been talking about? Have you been spilling all the family secrets while I wasn't around to hear?"

She let out a huff, seemingly put-off by his appearing. "No, we've been talking about my drama."

You couldn't help but grin when she folded her arms, wearing a stubborn frown, and Philip turned to you with a brow raised. "And what drama might that be?"

"I've been persuaded to act as a divorce lawyer for a crocodile and a Barbie."

"Oh, really?"

You nodded your frank confirmation. "I'm responsible for dividing up the assets."

That coaxed a chuckle from him as he glanced to Eliza. "Seems like a big job. Why wasn't I offered the position?"

"'Cause you aren't as nice as Y/N," she said matter-of-factly, and your eyebrows shot up. "You can't be mean to them while they're going through a divorce."

"Seriously?"

"You heard her," you said, casting Philip a look of faux contempt. "You have to be gentle with their feelings."

"And I'm not good enough at that?" He raised an eyebrow, and although his smile was still light, your conversation still surface-level, the broader circumstances left a heavy undertone in his words that put you on edge. You forced a smile.

"I wouldn't know."

"No, he isn't good enough at it, Y/N," Eliza Jr. insisted, yanking you abruptly from beginning to overanalyze his words. "You can leave us alone, Pip. We've got it handled."

"You're just gonna send me away?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged, and he turned to you. "C'mon, back me up, here."

"Actually, you should stay," you agreed, but at the tension in your tone, he furrowed his brow. "I'm going to go inside for a little; I need something to drink." You turned to Eliza Jr. with a smile. "Is it alright if Philip holds down the fort for a while with the divorce? I give him my full endorsement."

She huffed, folding her arms. "Okay. But don't stay away too long; my Barbie needs you."

"Thanks, Eliza. He promises he won't let you down; don't you, Pip?"

Although you offered him a light smile, the skepticism in his gaze didn't dissipate. "Yeah, of course," he ultimately said, turning back to his sister. "So, fill me in. What tore their marriage apart?"

You couldn't help your soft smile at how serious he looked as Eliza handed him the plush crocodile, but when he shifted in his seat, you flinched, figured he was about to turn to see you standing there stating at him. When he didn't, you took a deep breath and continued back toward the house. You were struggling to keep your bearings. Keep it together, Y/N.

Unfortunately, you'd spent the weekend so focused on Philip (too focused on Philip) that you hadn't bothered to give the layout of the house a second glance. The minute you stepped inside, you were essentially wandering.

You greeted Philip's family (and non-family) members in passing on your way, struggling to connect names to faces and forgetting whether the man who asked where to find Philip was John Laurens or John Church. They asked you if you needed help finding something, but no, you assured them you were just making a run inside to retrieve something from your suitcase.

That was how you found yourself in a secluded little library off at the far end of the first floor. You sank into the cool leather couch with a sigh, glad to be able to finally catch your breath — you could still see the reunion just outside the window, though, and the thoughts that'd had your head spinning all day didn't care to subside.

You only realized you were looking for him after you found him, still seated with Eliza Jr., but it seemed Eliza Sr. had found a role in the divorce proceedings, and you laughed quietly to yourself.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You jumped at the gentle voice that came from the doorway off to your left. You'd thought you were alone, but when you turned, you found a woman walking in to join you who couldn't have been more than 45.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you said quickly, standing up with wide eyes. "I didn't mean to intrude; I just—"

"No, none of that," —she waved off your apology, the wine in her tall glass sloshing about— "Eliza and Alex don't care where you go in their house. Their kids are seven too many for them to give a damn what happens to their property. You could trash the place, and they'd blame William."

You weren't quite sure whether you should stay, though. You froze in the process of standing up, eyeing the woman warily. She laughed. "What I mean is, relax. Geez."

Her easy nonchalance was putting you more at ease, and when you sat back down, she joined you on the other side of the couch. A moment passed, and you were about to fill the silence, but she beat you to it.

"So, I don't recognize you, which must mean you're the girl Philip tricked into coming home with him for a weekend," she said matter-of-factly, taking a sip of her wine.

"I..." you started, trailing off as you processed her words, and when she raised her eyebrows, you said, "yeah, I guess that'd be me. I'm Y/N."

"Oh, I know who you are. Think I've seen you in a few photos, but after the first five niece-in-laws, they all started to look the same," she sighed, clearly expecting you to commiserate with her. You were still stuck on trying to figure her out before you said anything you shouldn't.

She bumped her elbow into yours. "Don't look so scared. I'm not saying I'm expecting you two to get married anytime soon," she assured you. "Philip's never been great with commitment, either. You're the only long-term relationship he's had since high school, y'know."

So her quip about Philip 'tricking you into coming home with him' really was just a joke. The tension in your shoulders eased.

"I mean, we're taking things slow. One day at a time," you said, plastering on a smile. You hesitated. "But I'm sorry, have we met?"

She laughed, took another sip of her drink, and as she shook her head, you weren't sure what to make of how entertaining she was finding your question.

"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'm Philip's Aunt Peggy, Eliza's sister. Probably should've covered that before ambushing you in the library, huh?"

"That's alright." Your smile was candid, then. "It's really nice to meet you; Philip's told me quite a bit about you."

She cocked a dubious eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all." She was still eyeing you skeptically as she swirled her wine glass. "He's told me all your travel stories — I hear you're the fun aunt. Can you confirm?"

She shrugged it off, but her smile was wide. "Ah, he's just saying that because I sent the Hamiltons desserts in bulk when I was abroad. I'm just funding his materialism."

"To be fair, if any of my aunts sent me that much candy, they'd be my favorites, too," you reasoned.

"Aw, I'm his favorite?"

"Don't tell the others."

She snickered. "No promises."

"Well, if you do, don't rat me out," you warned, but your smile was amused. "You didn't hear it here."

"Alright, alright, I'll give you a pass," she sighed, "but only 'cause you're my favorite of the girls he's dated. You didn't hear that here, either."

"Don't make that call just yet," you said skeptically. "You hardly know me."

"No, but I've heard about you," she said. "I can tell you're better for Philip than any of his exes were. Just take me at my word."

"Seriously?" She nodded, and you eyed her dubiously. "What about Henriette? As far as your family's concerned, she can do no wrong."

The sidelong glance Peggy gave you was amused, but you shifted in your seat as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't need to worry about Henriette." Your eyebrows shot up. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's a sweet girl."

The thought didn't seem quite complete, though, and you waited for her to continue. "...but?"

"But, well... at the end of the day, she was bad for him, and that was that," Peggy said frankly. "I mean, he broke up with her for a reason."

"He broke up with her?" The disbelief was clear in your voice, but Peggy didn't pay it any mind. She just nodded.

"Philip was head over heels for that girl, once upon a time." She turned to you, and your unease must've been written more clearly across your face than you thought. She gave you a comforting smile, rested a hand on your knee. "Don't look so worried, please," she reiterated. "Their relationship was unhealthy. Philip gave her the world, but she always wanted more. It took a toll on him."

"And what makes you think I'm any better?" you asked skeptically.

"Because he doesn't think you're perfect."

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"I promise, that's a good thing," she assured you, but you weren't so confident in her words. She looked entertained at how taken aback you clearly were. In what world was that 'good'? "The reason none of his other relationships lasted was because he saw the women with rose-colored glasses. And I don't blame him; it happens."

"So, he's thought everyone else he dated was perfect?"

She nodded sagely. "He realizes that there are drawbacks to your relationship, love. There are drawbacks to any relationship, of course."

"Well, yeah."

"But he can actually see them, with you. And he still wants you. Don't discount that." She sounded wholly confident in her argument, but you only pursed your lips.

After a moment, she added, "He has a bad record of putting girls on pedestals. But I think he sees you for what you are."

"Someone with a lot of drawbacks?" Your gaze was still disbelieving as you eyed her, but she laughed.

"Well, I suppose." She turned to you. "But someone that's still worth it."

"Oh. Well, that's good, I guess." Your voice was soft, and Peggy squeezed your shoulder affectionately.

"It's rare, too. He's lucky to have found you." You pursed your lips. "So he'd better treat you right, or I'll set him straight. Just call up old Aunt Peggy; I've got your back."

The severity in her tone made you laugh, and she cracked a smile at your reaction. "I'll keep it in mind," you quipped. She nodded approvingly, and your smile was soft as she drained the remainder of her wine from her glass. "Thanks, Peggy."

"My pleasure."

Your eyes had wandered back to the window as you spoke, finding Philip easily as he crossed the yard with Georges and his wife, Emilie. They were talking enthusiastically; what they were saying was beyond you, but he laughed as Georges gave him a playful shove, and Emilie rolled her eyes at whatever he said next.

You didn't quite realize how soft your gaze was as you watched him, but Peggy did.

Moments later, when Philip happened to glance in your direction, he looked surprised to see you sitting there, but he grinned when he met your eyes. He gave you a short, timid wave, and you nodded back in greeting, the corners of your lips upturned. However, the interaction just drew Georges's attention to where you'd hidden yourself away, and when he saw you, his greeting was far more dramatic, waving, gesturing for you to come back out, apparently shouting something at you from outside (without a care in the world about the fact that you couldn't hear him). You couldn't help but laugh outright, returning his wave, and Georges turned to Philip. Whatever he said when he nudged him just made Philip shake his head, apparently exasperated.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" You turned with a start; Peggy's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and you felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Oh, I, um– Well–" You cut yourself off as she raised a concerned eyebrow, and you blinked hard, forced a smile as you gathered your bearings. "I mean... yeah. Of course."

You swallowed hard; how nervous you were was clearly apparent, and Peggy rested a hand on your arm, wearing an apologetic smile. "Oh, lord, I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that," she said. "I just assumed, y'know, after two years together, you two would've said that by now." When you pursed your lips, she was quick to backtrack. "And not that you should've! It's perfectly alright that you haven't."

"No, no, I mean, we have, I just..." you trailed off, unsure exactly how to justify your reaction. Peggy's dark brow knit.

"Then what's got you so nervous to confirm it? You two aren't having problems, are you?"

"No," was all you said, but there wasn't much conviction in your tone. When you met Peggy's gaze, you were relieved to see that the look in her eye wasn't of skepticism but was instead of concern.

"That answer sounded like it came with stipulations, love."

"No, it didn't," you assured her, but she raised an eyebrow. A beat passed. You swallowed hard. "It's just... how do you know if you love someone?"

Peggy tilted her head to one side. "Have you never been in love before?"

"I mean, I have," you acquiesced, and when you didn't go on, she filled the silence.

"So don't you know what it feels like when you're in love, then?"

"It's just... been a while." Your gaze drifted down to the printed rug before the couch, focus suddenly on how the toes of your shoes sank into the plush fabric. Peggy rested a hand on your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?"

You swallowed hard, gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, it is, really."

"You can talk to me, y'know. I won't go spilling your business to the family."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Well," you started, turning away from Peggy, gaze unfocused, "I don't know how I feel about Philip, honestly."

"You're sure there's no issue between you two?"

"It's nothing he's done," you said softly, and after you swallowed hard, you finally admitted, "but... I'm a widow. I haven't been with anyone else since my late husband, and it's been years, now."

"You're a widow?" she repeated, and you nodded.

"We married young. But since he passed, I..." You shrugged, feeling tears welling in the corners of your eyes. As you wiped them away, you offered her a weak smile in an effort to ease how silly you were feeling. "I mean, that was my last serious relationship. It's been hard to figure out how to proceed from there."

"I'm so sorry," Peggy said softly, and the concerned look she wore was genuine. "Come here."

She wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side where you sat, and you gave her a grateful smile. "You're sweet, but I'm fine, honestly. It's been so long. But it might've left me with just a little fear of attachment."

"You poor thing; I can't imagine," she said, rubbing your upper back comfortingly. "But it's alright that you feel like this; you shouldn't feel guilty about being slower to open up."

"I didn't say I felt guilty."

"Do you?"

A long moment passed in silence, and eventually, you said softly, "...I mean, honestly? Yeah. It sucks to not be able to figure out what it is I'm feeling. I… I can’t help but think Philip deserves better."

"We've all been there at one time or another. Don't beat yourself up."

"How did you know you loved your husband?" you asked, and she pursed her lips, thought on it for a moment.

"Well, I'm certainly no relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt," she said, "but I've told quite a number of people I loved them in all my life, and it took me quite a few failed romances to figure out which ones were real."

"Then how did you decide what love actually was?" you asked hesitantly, and Peggy's gaze was absent, faraway, but her smile was tender.

"I realized I was in love when being with them meant more to me than my freedom," she said. "That's why they never lasted. I spent my twenties traveling the world, jumping from job to job and partner to partner."

"'Partner to partner'?" you interjected, an eyebrow raised.

She shrugged. "Partner, significant other, whatever you kids are calling it these days."

"We say boyfriend, usually."

She gave you an amused smile with that, though, turning to again meet your gaze. "Oh, no, you misunderstand me," she replied frankly. "They were rarely men."

"Oh!" Your eyebrows shot up. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to assume—"

"That's just fine. No need to apologize." She shrugged, but she looked entertained at how panicked you were, immediately trying to backtrack. "But anyway, I was only willing to settle down with my husband when keeping my lifestyle would've meant losing him."

Your smile was soft. "That's sweet."

"Oh, is it?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Well, good. I half expected you to think I was talking nonsense."

Her candid surprise made you laugh. "No, I appreciate it. It's been nice to have someone to talk to about all this."

"I'm glad." She nudged your arm lightly, wearing a small smile. "And I know you'll be fine. Take as much time as you need to figure it out; I have a feeling Philip will be there waiting for you in the end."

-----

You didn't go back outside after that.

The weight of everything you'd just unloaded onto his aunt hit you like a freight train, and her words stuck with you. You were second-guessing everything that'd happened that weekend, replaying all the little things you took for granted: the enigmatic advice Georges had apparently given Philip when you first arrived at your office all those years ago; what his niece had heard him saying about you. His teasing comments, the stolen glances, the accidental, fleeting touches that lasted just a moment longer than they should've. It all added up to one larger picture that you weren't sure you wanted to see.

And your theory that you were there to make his ex jealous was blown wide open the minute you found out Philip had been the one to end things with Henriette. (No wonder she'd been trying to trudge up their old memories.)

You refused to think any further than that; you knew the conclusions you'd have to draw would make all this so much more real. And that thought scared you more than anything.

You were pacing the halls of the Hamiltons' first floor. The only reason you finally went upstairs was because one too many cousins had asked you where you were going — you’d been telling people you were headed up to get something from Philip’s room for nearly the past half hour.

That was how you found yourself seated on the end of Philip's bed, reeling from the afternoon's events.

You did retrieve something from your suitcase, ultimately. The deep-red, velveteen box was soft under your fingertips as you played with it anxiously, picking at the sides but never quite working up the nerve to open it. It wasn’t like it’d been that long since you opened it, either; it couldn’t have been more than a week, but this time, when you flicked it open, staring down at the gold band and its tiny diamond felt different.

What would John think if he could see you there?

Patsy was convinced he’d only want you to be happy, and that he wouldn’t mind who you were with. She’d tell you it was time to move on with your life. But did moving on have to mean leaving him behind?

And falling for someone else felt like abandonment of the worst kind. It felt like you were cheating on him, like you and he were falling out of love. As much as you still missed him, as much as you grieved for him, every day, the memory of what it felt like to be his slipped further away from your grasp.

You ran your fingers over the cold metal of the ring, and your hands shook as you slipped it onto your ring finger. For a fleeting moment, you could almost convince yourself that you were still somebody’s wife.

Light footsteps padded down the hall outside Philip’s room, and they were quiet enough that they didn’t snap you out of your reverie until the door’s hinges creaked. Your heart stopped.

And to your relief, the person who opened the door was just six-year-old William.

“Philip, are you…” He trailed off when he saw you on Philip’s bed, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Oh! Did you see Philip in here?”

“Hey, William,” you said, but your accompanying laugh held a hint of anxiety. “Philip isn’t up here; sorry. Last I saw him, he was out in the backyard.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Can you help me find him? Daddy needs him, but I don’t wanna make him sad ‘cause I don’t know where Pip is. I think he’s hiding from us.”

“Yeah, sure; I’d love to help,” you answered, and your endeared smile was candid. His determination was almost making you forget about your ring entirely.

“Thank you.” He seemed more than ready to drag you out of Philip’s bedroom, watching you eagerly as you hesitated to stand and go with him. You’d hoped he’d go ahead and let you catch up with him momentarily, but he stood there and watched you expectantly where you sat on the bed, and you apparently had two options: take the ring off then and hope William didn’t realize it was a wedding ring, or wear it out and hope you can find a time to hide it discreetly. The only issue was that you had no pocket to leave it in.

“No problem; let’s go.” You ended up choosing the former. William’s eyes didn’t leave you as you popped the ring’s box back open, and when you heard him gasp, your miscalculation became obvious.

“Is that a wedding ring?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“No! No, it… I mean yes, but—”

“When did you and Pip get married?” Oh, fuck. Your pulse was pushing into overdrive. “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding? What about Mama and Pops?”

“We didn’t… we didn’t not invite you, but—”

“But I wasn’t there.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a groan when he wore a deep frown. “Did your parents come?”

“No, they—”

“Why didn’t you and Pip tell us?” he asked. “It was a special location.”

Special loca…? “Special occasion?”

“That’s what I said.” He wore a pout. “Well, now we’ve gotta go tell everyone, c’mon.”

He turned and started running, and you swallowed hard. Oh, shit.

“Wait, William, come back!” you called after him, and you scowled when he didn’t stop. You had to finish putting the ring away before you could start after him — going back out to his family with it would only spell disaster. “William?”

By the time you took the ring off, tucked its box back into your suitcase, it seemed he was out of earshot. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was nowhere to be found; he’d weaved between his family members’ legs until he was out of sight.

Well, you were certainly, thoroughly fucked.

You began to wade through the crowd in the kitchen, eyes darting around the floor for any sign of a retreating William, going through room after room to no avail, but your heart rate was steadily increasing with every moment you didn’t find him.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes until one of Philip’s family members approached you.

“Y/N?” Frances Laurens— no, Frances Henderson, who’d taken her husband’s name the previous summer, approached you from behind, and you spun around abruptly in surprise. “Hey, when were you going to tell us that you and Philip were engaged?”

Your throat tightened. “What?”

“William just told us.” She nudged you with a lopsided grin. “Congrats; welcome to the family.”

“Oh, no, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“Wait, you’re getting married?” The William who interjected into your conversation was, unfortunately, not the one you were looking for. Instead, you followed the voice to find the younger Mulligan son standing with a beer.

“No, no, it’s not like… William just— well, not you William, William Hamilton—”

“Hey, William just told me you and Philip were finally getting married. What made you decide to tie the knot?” That was Georges, and your head jerked in his direction.

“Oh, thank god there’s going to be another woman at family dinners when he’s in town.” Angelica Hamilton approached from your left.

“Wait, what? Do you have a date for the wedding?” You hadn’t a clue which of the Lafayette sisters that was (well, you knew it wasn’t Henriette). “You better invite all of us. You might need a big venue to fit the whole family.”

Oh, god, you were in deep. It seemed William had managed to do quite a bit of damage without a whole lot of time.

“I need to talk to Philip,” you said, voice breathy. You knew you sounded winded, but his family all wore wide grins, patting you on the back or squeezing your shoulders — the Hamilton-Schuyler-Lafayette-Laurens-Mulligans were certainly a touchy-feely bunch.

“Yeah, where is your fiancé?” Georges asked, scanning the room.

“He’s not—”

“Hey, Philip!” It seemed he’d found him, yelling across the dining room, and Philip started toward you with his hands in his pockets, watching the crowd that’d formed around you curiously. “You ever planning on telling us you proposed? Or were you gonna wait till you had your firstborn, huh?”

Georges’s grin was wide as he shoved Philip affectionately, but Philip’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“William spilled everything. Congrats, you two,” Frances said, and when Philip met your eyes, you looked defeated.

“Oh, did he?”

“Relax, we’re all excited for you. No one’s mad that you hid it.” Apparently, you weren’t the only one who heard the tension in Philip’s voice as he glanced between you and Angelica warily, and she squeezed your upper arm with a smile. “It’s great news.”

“Yeah, no wonder you finally brought her home.” The Mulligan son— shit, his name was escaping you. Was it Wyatt? Winston? No, shit, what were you thinking? He was also William; how the hell did you forget—?

“I’m sorry, what exactly did Will tell you?” Philip asked hesitantly.

“He saw Y/N with the ring a little while ago. Not sure why you decided to hide such big news from us, but—”

“Right, can I have a word with my fiancée real quick?” He met your eyes with an urgent look, and you winced. “In private?”

“Oh, c’mon, it was an honest mistake; don’t be too hard on her,” Georges said. “Does it really matter? We were gonna find out anyway, so—”

“We’ll be back down in a bit.” Philip spoke through clenched teeth as he cut Georges off, walking toward you, and he grabbed you by the bicep, grip tight as he pulled you toward the doorway. Your breath caught when you stumbled forward. You were out of earshot before any of his family members could get another word in, and you struggled to keep pace with his long strides as he continued toward the staircase.

“Come on.” His voice was low when you reached the home’s entrance hall, and when he started upstairs to his room, you were quick to follow him. He locked the door behind you.

A moment passed in silence as he turned around to face you. The tension in the air was thicker than your ass.

He folded his arms.

“Care to explain why my entire family thinks we’re engaged?”

“It’s…” You rubbed your forehead as though it’d relieve your throbbing headache. “It was an accident. I swear it was; William just… he saw me with a ring, and he thought—”

“Why the hell did he think we were getting married? What’d you tell him?” Philip’s voice was rising as he spoke, and you had to swallow the lump building in your throat.

“I didn’t tell him we were engaged,” you defended. “I was just putting my ring back in its box, and he made an assumption. That’s it.”

“What ring?” he asked. “You aren’t wearing a ring. I haven’t seen you with a ring all fucking weekend. Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not.” You huffed. “What, do you think I did this on purpose? That I wanted your family to think we were engaged?”

“I don’t know, did you?”

“No; why would I?”

“Oh, be honest, Y/N. You just agreed to come home with me this weekend so that you could fuck with me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, do you really believe I’m just here to make your life harder? That I want to push you deeper into your stupid fucking lie?” you asked incredulously. “I came to cover for you. Because you told them we’d been together for two years.”

He scoffed. “Please, like you wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to mess with my personal life. Let’s face it; we both know you’ve never liked me.”

“We weren’t friends, but I’ve never had any sort of vendetta against you.” Your scowl deepened, and you shook your head in disbelief.

“You told me that you were the one person in our office who hated me. Word-for-word,” he retorted. “Did you do this to get back at me for using you as my fake girlfriend?”

“I don’t hate you.” He didn’t think that it was reasonable for your tone to be that defensive. “I've never hated you; I… I was just being dramatic. And even if I did have it out for you, I wouldn’t do this to your family.”

“Then why didn’t you tell William that we weren’t engaged?” he asked. “Hm? What the hell happened that my entire family managed to learn that you’d told him we were getting married in all of five minutes?”

“I tried to tell him we weren’t, but he was asking about the ring, and—”

“You should’ve told him it wasn’t an engagement ring!”

“I tried to! He asked if it was a wedding ring, though, and…” Your voice trailed off. The smallest shreds of a sob were building in your throat, and you were trying to speak through them, but your chest was tightening.

“And you didn’t set him straight?”

“It was a wedding ring, Philip. He stopped me before I could explain that we weren’t getting married, and by the time I could go after him, he was already downstairs. I lost him in the kitchen; I couldn’t stop him,” you said. “I swear, I tried to prevent this.”

A moment passed in silence. His gaze was absent, fixed on the floor, and he was shaking his head ever-so-slightly in disbelief.

“Why’d you have a wedding ring if you didn’t come here planning to fuck up my family life? If you didn’t wanna bury me further in this stupid lie I told to get my family off my back?” he asked. “Were you wearing the wedding ring?”

You nodded. “He came in, and I tried to hide it before coming downstairs, but—”

“Why the hell were you wearing a wedding ring?”

“I only put it on for a minute!”

“Why do you even have one? And why would you bring it home this weekend?”

“It’s…” Your jaw ached as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You blinked back the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and sat on the edge of his bed. You didn’t want him to see the old emotions that were breaking loose. “It’s old. I got it years ago.”

“What? Why?” The incredulity in his voice was making you cringe, and he threw his hands up in frustration. “What am I supposed to do with this, Y/N? You really expect me to believe that you wearing a wedding ring around my family was completely innocent? That you didn’t—?”

“I’m a widow, Philip.” You nearly had to shout to be loud enough to cut him off, and while he’d begun pacing in agitation, your words made him freeze.

He turned to you. “...You what?”

“I’m a widow,” you repeated softly, and his wide eyes met yours as he saw the tears building in them.

“I…” He started to reply, but his voice faltered. All the anger had been wiped from his expression, replaced quickly with surprise, apology, worry. “Shit, Y/N. I… fuck, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” His voice was quiet.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t have known.” You wiped at your left eye when the first tear rolled down your cheek. “It’s not like I ever talked about it.”

When he took a seat beside you on the bed, his hand came tentatively to cover yours. You drew in a shuddering breath. “Still. I’m sorry I… well, that I blew up like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your past like this; I—”

“It’s fine, Philip. Really.” You laced your fingers into his, squeezed his hand reassuringly. “No one expects a 26-year-old to be a widow. I don’t blame you.”

He nodded when you glanced up at him, and goosebumps ran up your arm when he swept his thumb over the back of your hand. “What was his name?” he asked quietly, and you pursed your lips.

“John.” You sniffled. “We met in high school, got married just after we graduated college.” Although you paused, he didn’t say anything, giving you room to pause, take a breath, and you knew that if you wanted to go on, he was there to listen. “We… god, we were so happy, for a while. I followed him to New York for college; I swore I’d never plan my life around a man, and I knew he wouldn’t ask me to, but I didn’t want to live without him. I was so sure that we wouldn’t break up, so I didn’t think we had anything to lose.”

Your voice was devolving into a croak as you went on, and you had to swallow your whimper when you came dangerously close to crying. He could hear your words breaking.

It caught you off guard when Philip wrapped an arm around your waist, pulled you into his side. The action was hesitant, and his grip on you was soft; he half expected you to recoil from his touch, but when you pulled closer, leaned against him, he held you close.

“He died almost two years after we graduated,” you murmured, cheek pressed against Philip’s shoulder. His shirt was damp from your slow, silent tears. “No one saw it coming. He was shot when someone broke into our house. It all happened in less than an hour, and then he was gone.”

Your voice broke altogether with your final few words. You could no longer keep down the sob in your throat, try as you might to keep speaking through it. You drew in a shuddering breath, but when you exhaled, you were crying audibly, tears flowing freely. “Shit, I… I didn’t mean to dump all of this onto you. You didn’t need to know all my…” —you hiccuped— “all my stupid fucking trauma, but—”

“Shh, relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, and the warmth rising in your chest wasn’t something you wanted to be able to explain when he turned toward you on the bed, wrapped his other arm around the back of your shoulders and pulled you into him. “C’mere. I’ve got you.”

As much as you were caught in your head, struggling to claw your way out of the memories you’d buried yourself in, you couldn’t have been more present in that moment. Philip smelled like the sun, like freshly-washed cotton, like lazy mornings after a long night of sleep; he smelled like something you couldn’t describe as anything other than warm.

And so you let yourself cry. You didn’t explain anything further; he wasn’t going to ask, didn’t need to know how you’d moved across the city within a week of John’s funeral to get away from everything that felt so painfully like him. He wasn’t going to pry. If you wanted to talk, wanted to tell him anything, needed someone who was just there to listen, that was your prerogative, and he wouldn’t try to force it. You were free to take your time, safe in his arms.

He rubbed your upper back, and your eyes fell shut.

“Thanks for being here,” you mumbled against the scratchy material of his button-down. “I… I’m sorry I made such a damn mess of your family life. I didn’t mean to; I swear, I—” You were cut off by a hiccup, a shuddering sob, and he held the side of your head against his chest, stroking your hair absentmindedly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You did nothing wrong. I’m gonna be just fine, alright? It’s you I’m worried about.”

You wore a watery smile at his words. “You’re too nice. I… I fucked up, and you don’t have to pretend you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine. Honest.” Only when your breathing evened out did he lean back, lift your chin to look at him. He offered you a small, lopsided smile. “So, I guess we’re gonna have to go back down there and tell my parents we’re engaged, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Don’t look so sad, princess; this is supposed to be a celebration.” The guilt weighing on your shoulders must’ve been written across your face, and as he nudged you lightly, his words made you laugh.

“Mmh, we’ve really hit a relationship milestone, haven’t we?”

“Looks like it,” he said. “So, what’s the story? How’d I propose? Was it oh-so-touching, or did I butcher it ‘cause I was an emotional mess?”

“Well, you had a whole speech prepared,” you informed him, and he raised an amused eyebrow.

“I did?”

“You did.” You nodded. “Only problem was that when you got down on one knee, you were crying too hard to be able to actually get through it. You were just so moved by how beautiful I looked that night, and you couldn’t keep your feelings in check when you thought about spending the rest of your life with me.”

“You sound like you’ve really thought this out,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’ve been fantasizing about it. I know how incredible and attractive I am, but I didn’t think we were on that level yet.”

“Of course not. Don’t worry.” You couldn’t contain your entertained grin. “This was all Theo’s fantasy that she told me while you were ignoring her. She’s still really convinced it’ll happen, so I guess now you have an instruction manual for your engagement with her.”

That made him laugh outright. “When Theo and I get engaged?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Now you’re really talking nonsense.” He shook his head, but as he eyed your expression, the tear tracks on your face, his brow furrowed with concern. “...Are you alright, Y/N?”

You nodded, swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” The calloused pad of his thumb ran over your cheek, wiped your tears away, and you found yourself staring. The look in his dark eyes was heavy; god, you could’ve drowned in it, and his eyes were watering, too, no doubt from watching you cry, from seeing how much pain you were in, how deep your grief ran.

He wished he could take that all away from you. If he could shoulder the burden for you, no matter how heavy, he’d have done it in a split second — even if you didn’t want him, even if you’d never look at him in the same way that he looked at you, he knew you, and he knew you didn’t deserve to suffer like this. He cleaned the smeared mascara from under your eyes with the end of his sleeve as though somehow, some way, that could alleviate your suffering.

And you couldn’t see all of that. But you saw how he looked at you. That much was unmistakable.

He held you as though, if he let go, you might break, and in that moment, part of you felt like you might. He’d never thought he’d really be holding you like that.

But there was so much care in his gentle gaze, although you had no way to know all that was going on beneath it. You felt safe, safer than you’d felt in a long time as he rubbed circles into the small of your back, shifting you onto his lap, and he was so close, his face just inches from yours. If you leaned forward just a little, you could kiss him.

And when your gaze trailed down to his lips, downturned in a concerned frown, as consumed in you as every other part of him, you did. You finally took the opportunity presented to you, and you didn’t intend to let yourself continue to squander it.

Sitting on his lap at the end of his bed, you kissed him.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

[galaxina-the-pyro]

Any headcanons for Phineas and Isabella after Act Your Age? I'm curious! (:

The thing is, is that...I...don’t really FOLLOW the canon of “Act Your Age” entirely? If at all? Like, even while I considered AYA to be my top episode, I always thought of ways of how it could’ve gone differently. I’m on the boat that says that Phineas and Isabella should’ve gotten together in HIGHSCHOOL, rather than towards their college years, like...the whole episode, as much as I love it, is convoluted.

Which is the POINT - the episode was trying to parody those cheesy romance films where the main couple gets together at the end after falling out and stuff. But...that just doesn’t FIT Phineas and Isabella. In fact, it paints them both in a bit of a negative light, which would’ve been GREAT for character development if we could’ve actually...seen it? Like, was there a falling out, or was Isabella just too busy to hang out with Phineas during that particular Summer? Phineas said it himself that he hadn’t seen her much THAT Summer - that doesn’t mean they didn’t hang out AT ALL, that sort of implies that they tried to stay in touch.

And you’re telling me that Phineas would say things like “the friendzone”? Again - that’s part of the trope. Phineas and Ferb are known for tearing a part those things and making fun of them, but like...I dunno, I feel like they could’ve gone a different route.

So, while I DID like AYA and stuff, I do know of it’s flaws and it DOES feel like a badly written fanfiction or even a fever dream Isabella had as a child.

Regardless, I suppose I have a couple headcanons for the two post AYA:

-Phineas and Isabella have dorms that are right across from each other, continuing the “girl across the street” trend

-Phineas and Isabella like trying to surprise each other with gifts, but both are terrible at surprises; the only thing that ever surprised either of them was their first Christmas as a couple, where they gave each other similar gifts without planning to, and declared that they had reached the level of “soulmates”

-After the first year of college, Phineas goes to a college out of state, leaving his friends and family (and most of all Isabella) behind; he and Isabella text each other everyday, and FaceTime/call as regularly as possible

-During this time, there’s an incident where some jerk tried to make the moves on Isabella, and when Isabella retold the story to Phineas, suddenly their conversation went completely silent. Three days passed, and Isabella was incredibly worried until Phineas came to her college campus and proceeded to hound down the punk who bothered her. Needless to say, Isabella thought that was a wonderful gesture, if not a bit excessive

-Phineas tries to propose to Isabella towards the end of their Senior Year in college, but the Mysterious Force foils each and every one of his attempts and big gestures until he’s had enough, marches over to Isabella while his shirt is on fire (leave that up to your imagination for now), gets down on one knee, and proposes with the passion of a raging tiger. His frustration dies down the moment Isabella says yes.

-Candace is ultimately the one who plans their wedding (ala, “Candace’s Big Day”); Ferb is Phineas’ best man, Gretchen is Isabella’s “Maid of Honor” while the rest of the Firesidelums are Bridesmaids, Buford, Baljeet, Django, and Irving are Groomsmen along with a long lost cousin of Phineas’

-Phineas and Isabella are both the type of people to want a lot of kids. I’d imagine that when Isabella was younger, she probably wanted, like, twenty babies, but after giving birth the first time she came to the reasonable conclusion that, at max, she’d want six (in MY little corner of the universe, they end up having four, currently: Aaron, Maya and Kayla, and Ian. But they’re considering having another)

-Not really POST AYA, but like, there's no way that the "what-if" moments in "What Might Have Been" didn't happen, so either they reenact those moments unintentionally while they're together (maybe this time PHINEAS gets salmonella and Isabella tends to HIM, lol), or they DID have those moments together but saw them as completely platonic even though they were CLEARLY having moments and everyone around them is just like:

And that’s pretty much it? But then again, all of these HCs can be taken out of AYA canon entirely and fit into other storylines where Phineas and Isabella got together in highschool or even a bit earlier than that (unrealistic or not, I like the idea of Phineas and Isabella just being together for a long time because...they’re so wholesome). But yeah - that’s my AYA headcanons that I currently have, lol

(Also, this was cute, but it HURTS so much that Isabella grew out of saying "Whatcha Dooin", it breaks my heart, but it's like? Such growth. My baby is growing up too fast and I don't know how to handle it, aaaahhhhh)

[eloarei]

Sleeping Beauty vs. Spindle’s End

Lately my husband and I have been watching through all the classic Disney animated movies in chronological order. We were also recently re/reading my favorite book, “Spindle’s End” and finally finished it the other day. Conveniently, the next Disney movie in line was Sleeping Beauty, so of course we watched it.  Spindle’s End is a retelling of Sleeping Beauty, but it differs drastically from any version I’m familiar with, while still keeping the basic premise: The baby princess is cursed by an evil witch/fairy and goes to be raised by several kindly fairies in a cottage. Also there’s a prince involved, and some horses and other animals.  But for all her fairy godmothers’ gifts (lips like roses, golden curling hair, eyelashes that go on for days), Rosie is not beautiful, not graceful, not ladylike, and does not want to be a princess. She does want to be the local blacksmith’s apprentice, and chat with all the village animals. Do not come near her with embroidery.  (And I’ll put the rest under the cut, for length and, hmm, slight spoilers?) Under the cut: comparisons between the 1959 Disney Sleeping Beauty, and the 2000 Robin McKinley book Spindle’s End. (1k words)  tl;dr:  The book has a lot more detail, including Rosie’s childhood, and Rosie actually gets to be a character with her own thoughts and decisions, instead of having one musical scene and then taking a nap. 

1. The biggest difference? Length. The Disney movie is a petite 1 hour and 12 minutes long; less if you remove the credits, while the book is over 400 pages. A lot of this is due to Robin McKinley’s detailed writing style (boy, you should read her Beauty and the Beast retelling if you like descriptions of roses), and partly due to the fact that she covers something that the movie conveniently skips: Rosie’s entire childhood. Much of the charm of the story comes from seeing Rosie go through various adolescent phases and mishaps, like cutting her own hair when she’s a toddler, moving to a new house when she’s a teenager, and experiencing all the turmoil of growing up. Meanwhile, Disney’s Rose/Aurora is just immediately a very adult-looking 16 years old.  2. A small difference: Disney’s princess is cursed to prick her finger upon the spindle at 16, while Rosie gets to at least become an adult first, and wait until 21. A bit more reasonable, I think.  3. Another small but important difference: in the Disney version, the king declares all spinning wheels must be destroyed. Honestly, how did they make cloth for 16 years??? In the book, only the spindle ends must be snapped off (and are then replaced by fancy smooth carved ones, which is a plot point).  4. Both similar and different are the fairies. In the movie, they’re... well, fairies. Magical beings with wings, immortal and probably very rare. In the book, they’re basically just witches. They’re born with magical powers, and they’re not very rare. The whole country runs on fairies and their control of the wild magic that entwines with everyday life. And they certainly aren’t all-powerful.  5. In the movie, Rose lives with 3 fairies, who are all kindly older ladies (and apparently rather bumbling without their magic). In the book, Rosie lives with 2 fairies: old “Aunt”, and “cousin” Katriona. They raise her as family, and everyone in town is sure she’s going to end up being a fairy too-- mostly because Rosie can somehow talk to animals (which was a fairy godmother gift, but only Aunt and Kat know that).  6. While in the movie, the fairies caution Rose not to talk to anyone, in the book she’s raised near a lively village, and chatters energetically at everyone, even making friends with the stoic blacksmith. Aunt and Kat want to keep her hidden, after all, and what’s the best way to hide? To be perfectly normal. Keeping her locked up would be kind of a red flag.  7. In the book, Rosie does eventually meet a prince that she’s unknowingly engaged to, though only one person in the town actually knows the whole truth (and it’s neither the prince, nor Rosie). And the prince does fall in love instantly with a charming peasant girl, who falls right back in love with him.  8. A major element in the book is the grand house Woodwold, which was built 1000 years ago by a seer who knew it would be instrumental in saving the country (although, again, only one person knows this). Woodwold is ancient and has its own deep magic and strong bonds with its people and the princess. There’s nothing like it in the movie. In the book, Woodwold is responsible for the walls of thorns (they’re rose bushes). Instead of being cast by the evil witch, the house cast them to protect its people from the witch. It’s a good house. I’d live there.  9. A fun similarity I noticed when I watched the movie was the final confrontation essentially being solved by a magical thrown weapon. In the movie, it’s the prince’s sword, which he throws into the dragon’s heart. Which was awesome, by the way. But in the book, it’s a little more complicated. It ends up being a magic spear, and it only enables a different character to take down the witch-- which is also pretty cool.  10. Speaking of the final confrontation? Spoilers, but Rosie basically decides to choke the witch the death. Man, I love that girl. Which points to essentially the biggest difference between the book and movie: Rosie actually gets to do things. Rose/Aurora in the film is barely a character, for all that the movie is about her. She has one important scene: the “once upon a dream” sequence. Other than that, it’s mostly the fairies and the prince. In the book, about the first 1/3 of the story does follow the fairies (because Rosie is a baby), but most of the rest of the story is from Rosie’s perspective, except for occasional switches back to Kat, or to the love interest, when it’s relevant. Rosie is still being strung along with this curse and all the princess nonsense, but she has infinitely more agency. (And also, like, opinions and feelings. Yes, she has a lot of those.)  Anyway, mostly without spoilers (and not a single named mention of Narl or Peony somehow), that’s a few of my thoughts on the movie vs. book. Obviously it’s not even a relevant comparison, given the great time difference between their writings and the different authors, but I think it’s fun to see where some of the books specific inspiration might have come from.  Oh, one more thought.  11. “Once upon a dream”. I actually love how this manifests in the book, because it happens in several ways. First is the way the fairy Katriona uses dreams to tell the queen that her daughter is alright. Second, is the “dream” of the seers who established Woodwold. And then the lyric, “and I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem”, about seers’ notorious unreliability.  (Oh, oops, I’m having fanfic thoughts.)  Aaand, just one more:  12. The princess is woken by true love’s first kiss! When I was reading the book, I never thought of this! It literally happens TWICE in the book and I never thought of it as “true love’s first kiss”, because neither time is framed as normal romantic kisses. One is like... CPR, and the other is like... magical energy-transfer nonsense. (Well, maybe they’re both magical energy transfer nonsense, but the first one is definitely framed as CPR.) And what I love about this is that they’re different kinds of love, but they’re both undeniably true love.  I dunno. Just makes me happy. =] 

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, tails89!

For @tails89. I had so much fun writing this! The only explicit part is near the end, and I had a lot of fun writing our two boys being so adorably clueless while the rest of the pack, well…you know. Hope you enjoy your gift!

Read On AO3

*****

Unexpected Gifts

Chapter 1 - It Starts With Christmas Decorations

Stiles balanced precariously on the ladder, adjusting the garland that he was strategically placing in the center of the doorway. Sure, Derek claimed he wasn’t in the holiday spirit, but that didn’t mean that he had to pull the fun out of it for everyone else in the pack. This was their first Christmas where there wasn’t something trying to kill them, so he was taking advantage of it, gosh darn it!

Well, sure it was only a few days before Thanksgiving, but Stiles was planning on enjoying the holidays early, so to hell with Derek and his Grinch and Scrooge-like attitude.

He heard a snort and looked down and saw Erica looking up at him, a smirk on her perfectly red lips as she emerged from the kitchen with a bag of chips in her hand.

“Derek know what you’re doing?” she asked, an eyebrow arched, and Stiles replied, “Nope! And you’re not gonna tell him. He’s not back until eight,” he added as he got down from the ladder, “Which means we have three hours to get this place put into shape.”

She snorted.

“Yeah, because I was planning on sharing a grave with you. Nothing doing, Riding Hood,” she said, and Stiles rolled his eyes at hearing her nickname for him. “If you’re gonna decorate the house, I’ll let you live with the bodily harm that follows.”

He glared at her as he moved the ladder over to another doorway and picked up another sprig of mistletoe and, as he ascended the ladder, said, “He’d never hurt me, I’m not one of you. You guys heal, I don’t, so I think I’m pretty safe from anything he might want to do to me,” and she laughed and said, “Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that,” and then wandered into the living room, while he stuck his tongue out at her back as she walked away.

He went back to decorating, fully annoyed that none of the pack was offering to help him. Instead, they had all piled onto the couch and the floor in front of the couch and were watching some sort of horror film that they were giggling at, and then throwing chips and popcorn at the tv when they saw inaccuracies.

Stiles rolled his eyes as Isaac burrowed into his head into Erica’s shoulder, who patted him on the back reassuringly while she was sprawled on top of Boyd.

Scott, Liam, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson were all on the floor, Liam in the middle of the two couples, his feet in Lydia’s lap and his head on Allison’s thighs, looking the most bored out of the five of them. Stiles smiled at seeing them being nice to their newest member. He’d showed up in town about six months before, and now it was as if he had always been a part of the pack and it was nice to see Jackson being nice to the newbie, as well as everyone else. For some reason, Jackson was remarkably protective of the youngest member of their pack, and everyone found it amusing.

Right at that moment, however, Stiles noticed that even though Jackson had one arm around his girlfriend’s waist, his other free hand lingered on Liam’s ankle, his thumb absently stroking back and forth.

Stiles grinned and then slowly got down from the ladder as he heard the front door open.

“You’re cleaning up all the food you threw at the tv!” Derek yelled as he kicked the door closed behind him, “I can smell the popcorn and chips!”, and then he walked into the living room…and he froze.

He watched Derek’s eyes as they scanned around the room, the bag with four two-liters of soda in it hanging forgotten on one arm, his phone in his hand, his thumb stopped mid-scroll of something that he’d been looking at as he’d walked into the house, and he watched as the alpha eventually brought his gaze full circle back to him. He threw out his arms and smiled brightly.

“Whaddaya think, big guy? Isn’t it great?” he said, unable to keep the glee from his words.

Derek was silent.

In the middle of the silence there was the sound of a saw buzzing on the screen and then the sound of someone screaming as a limb was cut off in a spray of blood and guts, and Stiles could feel the nervousness settling in. Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have gone and decorated so impulsively, but he knew that if he’d tried to get permission, it never would have happened, so he hadn’t had a choice.

And then, from the corner of the couch, Scott said, “We told him not to do it, Derek. None of us helped, we swear!” and Stiles shot a murderous glare at him.

He then looked back at Derek, who had finally closed his mouth.

But then he said…

“It looks nice, Stiles. Thanks.”

And then disappeared down the hall to the kitchen, while the pack looked on in shock. Feeling triumphant, Stiles pumped his arm in the air, did a little jump, and then shouted, “Boo yah! Told ya, bitches! I’m untouchable and he liked it!”

Lydia muttered something under her breath that Stiles couldn’t hear, but, of course, the rest of the pack could, and they all burst out into fits of laughter, and he was annoyed with them once more.

“Okay, seriously?” he groused, walking over and retrieving the ladder and folding it up. “You guys can’t keep doing that, you know! It’s very rude to those of us without superhuman hearing!”, but she simply rolled her eyes and looked up at him and said, “Sweetie, you are adorably clueless. Now, how about you go and help him with the rest of the groceries?”

He scoffed, opened his mouth to try and say something…but nothing came out, so he ducked out, not meeting anyone’s eyes, and then grabbed as many bags as he could, ignoring the eye roll that Derek sent in his direction as he walked into the kitchen, struggling with the bags, one of them nearly cutting off the circulation in his left arm. He got them onto the counter and then went to get a few more, but one glare from Derek kept him in the kitchen.

Derek came back a minute later with the rest of the bags, not even breaking a sweat and Stiles started to unpack them, saying, “Okay, fine, keep on showing off your werewolf strength, but you and I both know that if it wasn’t for me, you’d have been making two more trips.”

Derek snorted, as if amused, and the two of them finished unpacking all of the food.

The pack was currently staying at Derek’s house, which had been completely renovated and rebuilt over the past year, and every one of them had a bedroom. Except for Stiles, of course, who still lived at home with his dad, but he didn’t mind.

However, it still bothered him a little bit, considering not only had Allison moved in, her and Scott sharing a room, but Lydia had also moved in, sharing a room with Jackson on the second floor.

Erica and Boyd had their own attic bedroom, and Isaac and Liam were sharing a room as platonic roommates. Stiles had it on good authority, though, that Isaac regularly snuck over to Scott and Allison’s room, and Liam tended to disappear at night for several hours and had been seen sneaking out of Jackson and Lydia’s room in the wee hours of the morning. Stiles actually found it all rather adorable, though he wouldn’t lie and say that he didn’t feel a little bit left out of the pack.

Stiles was over as often as possible, of course, but he still felt the need to keep an eye on his dad. It was more instinct than anything else, but he trusted his gut instinct, because it had never steered him wrong, and he just had the feeling that his dad needed him at home for a little while longer.

Derek, as he was putting away the milk, suddenly asked, “So, are you coming over for Thanksgiving this year? Or are you going to spend it with your dad?”

Stiles stopped in the middle of putting away a box of mac and cheese and answered, “Uh, yeah, I, uh…hadn’t really thought about it. Dad’s schedule is kinda weird right now, what with them trying to hire a new deputy and all, and so…yeah. Dunno. I mean, I’d like to,” he stressed, not wanting to give the alpha the wrong impression, “But I’m not sure what it’s going to be like…”

His voice drifted, and then he quickly added, “Uh, what are you and the pack planning? I wasn’t aware that you guys had plans for it.”

Derek shrugged and kept on putting away, groceries, Stiles resuming it, as well.

“I thought I could convince them to celebrate. When…when mom was alive, we used to have a really huge meal, invite all the cousins, eat way too much food in the middle of the day, and then spend the rest of the day working it off by running around the property in our shifts. And then come back after to eat even more food,” he added with a faint smile on the corner of his lips, and Stiles briefly marveled at the fact that Derek was offering up such personal information about himself so easily.

Derek then coughed and said, “You know, something like that. I’ll have to spend an obscene amount of money to feed them all, but you know--”

“You actually have an obscene amount of money,” Stiles supplied, and Derek ducked his head as if embarrassed, but then nodded. “So, why don’t you spend it and go all out for Thanksgiving and Christmas this year?” Stiles goaded. “This is one of the few times of year where things quiet down, and it’s the first time in a long time that everyone is here at the same time. Let’s spoil ourselves.”

He gave Stiles a look, with that infamous eyebrow arch, but the look had no effect on him.

Instead, he said, “Not only can we have an awesome Thanksgiving, but we can go out and get special presents for everyone in the pack for Christmas. I’ll help you pick stuff out.”

Derek still seemed suspicious, but then let out a sigh, rolled his eyes, and said, “Alright. Fine.”

Yes!

--

The next day, Stiles got there nice and early and was amused when Lydia opened the door looking pissed off, still in her pajamas and growled out, “Get him out of here, Stiles. And don’t ever come by this early again,” and he slipped past her into the house, noticing that she was the only one not looking awake and that was how he discovered that Lydia Martin was not a morning person.

Derek appeared at the top of the stairs and Stiles swallowed.

He was wearing dark wash jeans that fit him just right and a dark gray henley that only emphasized the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist.

Stiles had a hunch that even if Derek wasn’t a werewolf, that he would still look as hot as he did right at that moment. He tried to ignore it as best he could and said, “Hey, uh, you ready to go?” and Derek nodded and replied, “Yeah, just let me grab my keys,” to which Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes and said, “Nuh uh. We’re taking my car, sourwolf. Your car won’t hold everything, and you know it.”

The werewolf gave him a look, to which Stiles responded, “Don’t give me the eyebrows of judgment,” and brushed past him and tossed back at him, “And bring a coat!”

Soon enough they were at the largest department store in Beacon Hills and Stiles was sticking close to Derek’s shoulder, a list in one hand, reading off what he had figured out so far in terms of gifts.

“Okay, I’ve a gift certificate for Allison, Lydia, and Erica to the new spa that just opened up. After saving the owner from that witch, they felt beholden to us, so I took shameless advantage of it,” he said. He then continued with, “…And I got Jackson one, too. I know him far too well,” at which Derek snorted. “I’m thinking about a new scarf for Isaac, some comic books for Scott, a notebook for Boyd, our little closet poet,” he couldn’t help but tease, “And Liam…well, I thought I could just give him cold hard cash. I don’t know him as well as I’d like to.”

Derek muttered as he fingered the edge of a sweater on a table, “He likes science fiction…”

Stiles stopped and gave him a look.

“And since when do you talk to Liam?” he prodded, slightly amused, but also curious, and Derek rolled his eyes and said, “I’m training him, remember? He spends a lot of time with me and Isaac, and I’ve gotten to know them pretty well. The two of them actually have a lot of the same interests,” he added, giving him a wry look, “So you might want to rethink the scarf.”

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, please. Don’t make me buy more stuff. Unlike you, my budget is limited. Like, really really limited.”

But he made a note of it anyway on his list, and then skipped a couple steps ahead so that he was in front of Derek and put a hand on his chest to stop him and said, “So, what about you, big guy? What do you want for Christmas?”

He noted that Derek’s eyes widened slightly, and if it had been anyone else, they might not have noticed his surprise, but Stiles noticed it and wondered what it meant.

He opened his mouth, closed it, and then finally answered, “Uh…I don’t know. I mean, for me, having the pack is good enough. I don’t…I don’t really need anything.”

While Stiles found it incredibly endearing and adorably sweet, he rolled his eyes and said, “As sweet as that is, which it totally is, don’t get me wrong…I didn’t ask you if you needed anything; I asked you what you wanted.  I mean, that’s a tall order, granted, considering the fact that you are loaded with money, have a perfect body, have a huge house, and a pack that completely and utterly adores you, even when you’re being a total grump, but that doesn’t mean that you’re not entitled to something fun and frivolous…”

At that, Derek chuckled and removed Stiles’ hand from his chest and said, “I’ll need to give it some thought,” but, again, Stiles felt like Derek was holding something back.

He decided not to push it, however, as he saw the slight tension in the older man’s jaw that told him that he was only a few words away from irritating him to death. Instead, he helped Derek put together his own list for the pack, and then they were off to the grocery store.

As soon as they were inside, Stiles couldn’t help but ask, “So, uh…why did Lydia beg me to get you out of the house? You being a grump again?”

Derek huffed and answered as he pulled out a cart from the front, “I didn’t exactly sleep well, so I was up kinda early and was working out--”

“Dude, you don’t need to work out,” Stiles interrupted, and Derek glared at him and finished, “--I was working out and dropped a weight. I woke up Lydia and she apparently can’t get back to sleep once she’s been woken up, so she’s been mad at me all morning for ruining her usual ten hours of sleep.”

Stiles snorted and nodded.

“Yep. That sounds like Lydia.”

The matter was dropped, and they started their heavy-duty grocery shop for Thanksgiving. Everything was going well, the two of them finding everything they needed for Thanksgiving, but when Derek started to reach for the frozen pies, Stiles slapped his hand away with an affronted look.

“Dude! We are not having frozen pie! This is Thanksgiving!”

“And I don’t bake,” Derek deadpanned back at him, once more reaching for the pie, but Stiles pulled his hand back a second time and scolded, “Maybe you don’t bake, sourwolf, but I do. Now, let me take us to the baking aisle, so you can see what real Polish desserts are all about. My grandmother taught me everything I know, and I’ll have you know that I am the best at it.”

Stiles felt smug as he led them to the right aisle, for once looking forward to cooking a pie and traditional Polish desserts for more than just himself and his dad.

He hadn’t actually had the chance over the past few holidays because there was usually some big and scary supernatural entity occupying their time, but now he had a unique chance to do something that he loved to do to show how much he cared about the people in his life: he would cook for them.

The rest of the shopping trip consisted of the two of them arguing over whether or not to get fresh ingredients, to whether they should get creamy or crunchy peanut butter (they ended up getting both), all the way to whether or not it was absolutely imperative that Stiles make the dough from scratch (he insisted that had to and finally managed to convince Derek to go along with it, so long as Derek was allowed to help choose which ingredients went into the faworkis; they picked blueberries and raspberries).

By the time they were back at the Jeep, Derek was carrying most of the bags while Stiles gave him an arched look as they put all the bags into the back, silently pointing out that taking the Jeep was the better idea, as there was no way that all of this would have fit in the cramped trunk of the Camaro.

As soon as they were home, they noticed that the pack was nowhere to be found.

Stiles read off the note that they’d taped to the fridge as Derek brought the bags into the kitchen.

““Got bored, headed to the lake to go for a swim. Be back whenever.” Gee, that’s real swell of them,” Stiles said, ripping it up, recognizing Scott’s handwriting. “How much you wanna bet that they scampered as soon as they heard the car on the road so that they wouldn’t have to help us with the groceries?”

Derek shot him a look as he brought in the last bag, to which Stiles replied, “Okay, fine, you brought in the groceries, but I’m the one who’s doing all the cooking, dude.”

At that, Derek countered, “I’m not completely inept in the kitchen, you know. I can handle a turkey and some stuffing.”

“Good,” Stiles shot back. “Then you can do the turkey and the stuffing. And I will somehow wrestle Liam and Isaac into helping with the potatoes, because I not going to peel all those potatoes by myself. Your pups can pull their weight in this little holiday endeavor.”

“What about the rest of the pack?” Derek asked, pulling out the food and putting it away. “You gonna wrangle them into helping, too?”

Stiles shook his head and remarked, “Nope. Scott can’t cook, for one, and for two, I know there is no way I am going to let them touch my food.” Derek arched an eyebrow at him. “Our food,” Stiles quickly corrected. “I just…I know that the rest of them have little to no self-control, besides maybe Allison and Lydia, but they’re not kitchen people. I have witnessed both of them burning food on multiple occasions. So,” he emphasized by waving around a frozen bag of vegetables, “I am going to take point on the cooking. And all the taste-testing, too.”

Derek seemed slightly amused by that.

Stiles brushed it off and decided to go ahead and start with laying out what he would need to make the dough for the faworkis. They would take a while to make, and it had been a few years since he’d made them, so he needed to brush up on his skills.

Derek threw a couple of frozen pizzas into the oven and not thirty minutes later, just as the pizzas were just coming out, they heard the thundering of steps on the front porch.

Pups were home.

Scott, Isaac, Liam, Boyd, and Jackson stumbled in first, still slightly damp and still in their swimming trunks, practically scrambling over each other to get to the pizza that Derek had put on the island, while Stiles watched in amusement as Derek tried to reprimand them, and then Allison, Erica, and Lydia came trailing behind them, the three of them completely dry and covered, and rolling their eyes at the boys. Just as they approached the counter, Stiles laughed as they all parted for Lydia, who deftly slipped between them and made enough space for the other two girls to slide in next to her, the three of them commandeering the stools, as well as forcing the guys to use the paper plates that Derek had put out for them.

They all started talking at once, and Stiles could tell that Derek was already getting a headache, so he quickly stepped in and shouted, “Yo! All of you shut it! You’re giving both of us a headache over here, only Derek’s too nice to say it. Too loud, capiché?”

Jackson merely snorted and rolled his eyes while Lydia arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, but everyone else looked properly reprimanded.

Derek then moved next to Stiles and said into his ear, “Thanks,” and Stiles shrugged and replied, “Anytime,” and patted his shoulder.

“Aww, look at that,” said Jackson from where he sat on the counter holding a slice of the meat lovers in one hand, “Mom and dad are co-parenting. It’s touching, really.”

Lydia pinched his knee and gave him another one of her signature looks and then said in a reassuring tone, though somehow still teasing them at the same time, “I think it’s sweet. Besides, they are the ones who made us dinner and are making Thanksgiving dinner, too, if I’m not mistaken,” she added, looking pointedly at the counter behind them that still had a few bags on the counter.

Liam looked up from his own food at that, gave a look at Boyd who was at his elbow, and then asked, “Wait, are you guys really making Thanksgiving dinner?”

Derek nodded, and Stiles said, “Derek’s doing the turkey and stuffing, and I’m doing the rest. Speaking of which, you and Isaac are helping me with the potatoes. I need someone to peel them, and you guys have the wolfie endurance for such an arduous task. And you’re the youngest.”

At his words, both Liam and Isaac groaned, but they didn’t put up a fight about it, and Stiles felt a small surge of confidence.

Things were falling into place.

Chapter 2 - Biting Off More Than He Could Chew...Literally and Figuratively

Okay, so maybe he had celebrated too soon, Stiles thought to himself as he scrambled to finish mashing the potatoes that Isaac and Liam had peeled for him. Dinner was supposed to be in ten hours, and though he had finished all of the vegetable dishes, he still had to finish the potatoes and then all of the faworkis, and he wasn’t sure that he could do it in time.

Derek already had the turkey all set up and ready to go and had premade the stuffing the night before and all it needed was to be reheated.

God, Stiles knew he shouldn’t have made such a big promise.

But he didn’t complain as he continued to mash the potatoes into oblivion, casting a quick glance over the recipe book, double checking that he had made enough for the entire pack. He had to practically quadrouple every recipe that said it could feed a family of six, because he knew how much each one of them really ate. And even though neither Allison nor Lydia were werewolves, he knew what they were like and knew that he had to make sure that there was enough food for them.

His shoulders were sore from all of the mashing, as he’d made an obscene amount of mashed potatoes, and he sighed in relief as he managed to finish mashing the last bowl. There were now five large bowls filled with mashed potatoes, and Stiles just prayed that it would be enough.

He threw it in the fridge and then turned his attention to the dessert. Faworkis. One of his favorite Polish desserts.

He pulled out the first bowl of dough that he had put into the fridge to rise and started to roll it out, and just as he started, Derek walked in.

He took a look around the kitchen and then said, “So…need some help?” and Stiles immediately answered, “Normally I would kick you out of the kitchen and not let you even touch them until I was finished with them, but right now, I could really use your help. Here,” he said, tossing an apron in Derek’s direction, “Put this on and take the other bowl of dough and just watch what I do and copy me, okay? I’ve got nine hours until they have to be done and I forgot how time consuming they can be.”

Derek seemed surprised but tied off the apron around his waist and Stiles couldn’t help but smile a little at seeing him in a bright green apron that said, “Kiss Me, I’m Irish”.

Stiles rolled out the dough and got to work, looking up every now and then to check on Derek.

At one point, he went over and gently adjusted Derek’s hands on the roller and said, “You’re doing good with pressure, but you need to keep it more even. Press down from the elbow through the wrist, not from the shoulders,” he corrected him, trying to ignore the faint heat that rose in his cheeks at feeling his hands fitting almost perfectly over the alpha’s.

Derek turned his head slightly, their mouths suddenly only an inch or two apart and breathed out, “Like this?”

Unable to trust himself to say anything, Stiles swallowed, nodded, and then quickly pulled back and went back to his side of the counter and proceeded to start to cut out the proper size pieces for rolling, the fruit in a bowl right next to him.

Derek followed his lead and Stiles smiled to himself as he saw him doing it almost expertly, easily picking up on what Stiles was doing. They didn’t say anything, but nothing needed to be said, and they had the background noises of the rest of the pack making a general ruckus around the house. Even though he didn’t have superhuman hearing like the rest of them, he could hear Erica and Isaac roughhousing in the living room, and the rest of the girls and Scott were just upstairs listening to some annoyingly peppy music.

He wasn’t sure about the rest of them, but it was enough to have him feeling a warmth in his chest at the domesticity of it all.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking on his part.

Stiles had had a crush on Derek for years, but he knew better than to think it was reciprocated. He knew that he was still part of the pack, but not quite the same as everyone else, he mused to himself as he grabbed the fruit and started to roll it inside the cut dough. He was an outlier of the pack, not really the same as the rest of them.

He knew that, and had been okay with it for a long time, but at the beginning of the year he’d thought that things were changing, and he remembered the last day that they’d worked together on the house--

--Derek rolled his eyes as he effortlessly lifted the massive front door and put it into place, saying, “You know, Stiles, you’re the only one who kept on showing up after the first week of renovations. This house is yours already,” but he shook his head and watched Derek’s shoulders bulge as he finally put the door down, and said, “Nah, not really. It’s for the pack, not me, big guy.”

The alpha shot him a look, his brow furrowed, but then shook his head and reached down and finished tightening the bolts and the hinges, making sure that everything was secure.

“I mean it. You’ve worked harder than any of them to make my house a home again.” He then stood back and up and moved over to Stiles’ side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This is yours, too. Ours.”

He was taken aback by the sheer intensity and honesty in the man’s eyes, so Stiles licked his lips and swallowed.

“Uh…thanks? I think? I mean,” he quickly broke the tension, “If you’re just saying this to put my name on the deed and make me pay for utilities, nice try, Der.”

Derek chuckled, patted him one more time, and then turned and headed back into the house for the shop vac to clean up what was left of the sawdust on the first floor, and Stiles watched his back as he retreated, swallowing a second time, unsure of what Derek was trying to say, because it had felt like he was trying to say something without actually saying it.

By the time they were done cleaning the house, Derek seemed back to his old self and Stiles felt like they were once more where they had been when they had first started working on the house together. It was nice and reassuring and familiar…but then as they stood outside admiring the finished work, Derek shoved his shoulder against Stiles’, as if trying to throw him off balance, and Stiles shoved him right back, which, of course, had no effect, as he was completely immovable.

“Dude, what was that for?” he asked, rubbing his sore shoulder.

Derek shrugged.

“Dunno. Just felt like it.”

And then he gave him one of those almost, not-quite-a-smile looks, and Stiles just shook his head. He’d never understand why Derek did half the things he did, but he was glad that Derek thought of him as part of the pack, even though he hadn’t built him a room. Stiles was still a bit steamed about that.

Derek then said, “It’s yours and mine, Stiles. C’mon, let’s carve our names on the inside of the door, between the hinges,” and he walked back up the porch dragging Stiles by the wrist behind him, which he found slightly amusing. He followed him up to the door and watched as Derek opened it all the way and revealed where the hinges came together, and then popped a claw and carved his name, Derek James Hale. He then looked up at Stiles and arched an eyebrow and handed him a pocketknife. “Your turn.”

Stiles arched an eyebrow right back at him.

“You want my full name? Or just the abbreviation? Because if we’re talking full name, then you might wanna take a seat, it’s gonna be awhile,” and Derek just rolled his eyes at him.

“Just do it, Stiles.”

Grinning, he took the knife and managed to get his full name into the wood between two of the other hinges and smiled when he was done. Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski.

Derek came over and looked at it, and then took back his pocketknife and said, “Hope you didn’t wear down the blade,” and Stiles made a face at him, they both chuckled, and then Stiles was once more taken off guard when the alpha traced his fingers over where Stiles had carved his name. Not knowing why, Stiles did the same to Derek’s name.

And then Derek said, “There. It’s ours. Always will be.”

Stiles smiled. He could live with that.

--

He came back to himself when he heard a loud crash from the other room, and Derek shouting out to them, “Erica, did you break another coffee table?”

“…No?” she called back, and Derek let out a frustrated sigh, digging his fingers into his dough in the process and Stiles quickly admonished him.

“Hey, hey! Pay attention, sour wolf! Don’t ruin the dough!”

He pulled his fingers out and rerolled the dough flat and then recut it, and Stiles was pleased to see that he did all of it correctly, even though he’d only done it once before, and suddenly had an image of a young Derek helping his mom in the kitchen baking cookies. He thought about asking him, even opened his mouth to do so, but then thought better of it and went back to working on the faworkis. He knew better than to ruin a moment, and so he’d ask some other time.

By the time they’d finished rolling all of the pastries and Stiles had brushed melted butter over every single one of them, they could hear a movie playing in the other room, the Avengers theme music coming through the wall.

Derek rolled his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “How many times are they going to watch that movie?” and Stiles quickly answered, “Oh, c’mon, Der, you know it’s one of the best movies out there. Oh, wait, I forgot,” he added sarcastically, “You’re a luddite who prefers to read than watch movies.”

Derek gave him a less than intimidating glare and said, “Just because I prefer books, that doesn’t make me anti-technology, Stiles.”

He gave Derek an arched look.

“But it does make you a nerd.”

“Says the guy who has Lord of the Rings figurines on his desk.”

Stiles scoffed.

“That is entirely a different thing, man,” he said, leaning on the counter and rolling his head on his shoulders, and Derek gave him a look that he couldn’t quite identify, almost fond…but it couldn’t be. Derek wasn’t fond of him, he was irritated by him, and that’s how it had always been. “Everyone knows that Lord of the Rings is cool, they just don’t want to admit it.”

Derek just gave him another look with his eyebrows and Stiles gave him a look right back, waggling his eyebrows as comically as possible.

Derek conceded the silent argument.

Stiles grinned.

--

It was a week until Christmas, and Stiles was scrambling. He’d gotten everyone’s presents but he was still struggling, trying to figure out what the hell to get Derek, which is why he was currently tucked between Lydia and Allison on the couch at Derek’s house, his feet in Lydia’s lap and his head in Allison’s lap, where she was playing with his hair. Lydia was using his legs to rest her notebook on. And Stiles…well, he was complaining for everything that he was worth.

“I don’t know what the hell to do, guys. He is impossible to buy for,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “He has plenty of money, a new house, and all of you guys here, too.”

Lydia ignored him, making some more notes on something that she was working on for some thinktank that she was working with over the internet, but Allison paused in running her fingers through his hair and said, “Yeah, he’s kinda hard to buy for. But Scott and I decided to get him a gift card for a bookstore he really likes in town.”

Luckily, Derek was out for the day.

Unluckily, he was stuck with Allison and Lydia, who were the only two people at the house who knew the least about their enigmatic pack leader.

Thanksgiving had been a success, luckily, and there weren’t any leftovers, though all of the faworkis had been eaten that same day. Stiles had been a bit irritated by that, but the pack had reassured him that it was only because they were so good, so he’d promised to also make them for Christmas and had already enlisted Derek’s help once more, as he’d decided that he was going to have to triple that recipe.

He had been comfortable over the holiday and a few days after it, but over the past couple of weeks, things had gotten odd between him and Derek and he didn’t know why.

Correction: he did know why, but he just didn’t like to admit it.

It was stupid feeling awkward and off-kilter all just because Derek was suddenly being nice to him.

He mentioned it aloud, saying, “Have you noticed that he’s been really nice to me, lately? Like, he didn’t take my head off when I threatened to put mistletoe up around the house,” he said gesturing towards the ceiling with one hand. “You would think that would garner at least some sort of reaction, right?”

Allison kept on running her fingers through his hair, and she said, “Yeah, well, maybe it’s the holidays? We’ve never all been together for Christmas before, so maybe he’s just…you know, getting into the Christmas spirit.”

Stiles noticed Lydia’s eyebrow arch and the corner of her mouth twitch and he looked up at Allison just in time to see her also trying to hide a smile, and his mind flashed back to the pack on the couch a few days before Thanksgiving, as well as to the day they had come back from their swim. It was the same look.

Okay, something was definitely going on.

Sitting up, ignoring Lydia’s cry of protest as he dragged his feet from her legs, he said, “Okay, you two are conspiring about something, and I wanna know what it is. I mean, what’s going on here with the smiles and the looks and the, you know, general weirdness?” he asked, feeling his heartrate skyrocket. “Because if there is something going on here about Derek, then I deserve to know!”

They exchanged a look and Stiles recognized the glare that Lydia sent in Allison’s direction and suddenly had the insight that he wouldn’t be getting any answers from them. He knew what Lydia’s resolve was like when it came down to keeping secrets, so he knew that he would get nothing out of her, and he was well aware of the fact that Allison was painfully loyal when it came to keeping secrets for the greater good, so he had the vague impression that he wouldn’t be able to get her to talk as well.

Feeling frustrated, his flung his arms up as he got up from the couch and said as he stalked angrily to the front door, “Fine! Be that way! Don’t help!” and nearly slammed the door behind him, but then thought better of it and instead carefully closed it.

He was still annoyed as he leaned back against the door, but he was also just confused. He didn’t know what to do with a nice Derek Hale, or what to buy for him.

Just two days before, they had all been at the house and Boyd had suggested that they all go for a run in the preserve…but then Derek had told them to go on ahead and then had offered to stay behind with Stiles.

The teen had noticed that Derek had made an excuse that he had to get some work done, and the pack had all just seemed to accept it, but Stiles knew better than they did and could tell, even without any superhuman abilities, that the alpha had been lying. He had then spent the entire afternoon with Stiles not really doing anything at all.

Stiles had messed around on his phone for most of the time while Derek had sat on the couch with a book, reading.

Huh. Maybe something to do with books wasn’t a bad idea, he mused, thinking of the fact that Allison had mentioned that she and Scott had given him a gift card for a bookstore, and the fact that all that Derek seemed to do in his free time was read. But it couldn’t be as generic as that, he knew that much. If he was going to get the now less-than-surly alpha a decent Christmas present, then it would have to be something that meant something to him. Something that said that he cared for him and that he was paying attention to him.

Stiles knew all too well what it was like to receive presents that were generic because the person giving them didn’t know you as well as they felt they should.

Unfortunately, that had been the habit for quite a few years after his mom had died when he’d gotten a slew of generic Christmas gifts from his dad, ranging from a painting kit to a football.

He didn’t take any of it personally, because he knew that his dad had been hurting during that time, but he also knew that his dad had been trying a lot harder in the past few years and he knew how it felt to get a gift that was so unexpected and perfect. Just last year, his dad had gifted him a leather jacket with rune protection in it that he’d found from a verified wicca online. Stiles knew that it must have set his dad back a pretty penny, and it was now something that he wore almost constantly.

He needed to do something like that for Derek.

Lifting his head from where he’d been leaning it back against the front door that he and Derek had installed, he let out a long sigh and looked out towards the preserve.

He was going to get him something special.

Chapter 3 - Erica Is Grounded and It Sucks for Everyone

“Dude, I totally took you down!” Liam yelled at Jackson as they all made their way from the back yard into the house, while Stiles rolled his eyes. The wrestling had gotten heated and Jackson had been distracted because of Lydia’s low-cut top…and so Liam had managed to take him down at that perfect moment.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” drawled Jackson, cuffing the younger pack member on the back of his head, but Stiles saw a slight twitch of the corner of his mouth and he knew that Jackson was pleased with the kid’s progress.

Erica, who trailed behind them, groaned and pouted like an irreverent ten-year-old.

“Oh, god, I don’t care who took who down, I’m just pissed that Derek has banned me from training until I go and help him pick out a new coffee table!”

Everyone started laughing at that, and Scott was laughing so hard he nearly dropped Allison, who was perched on his back, her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, while Isaac almost tripped over his own feet. Lydia was already back inside, along with Derek, and Stiles knew that Boyd was still sleeping up in the attic room. The man seemed to live for sleep, which Stiles completely understood, and seemed to be more nocturnal than the rest of them.

Unable to help himself, Stiles said, “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for destroying your third coffee table this year,” and she lowly growled in the back of her throat at him.

He brushed it off and as they all stepped inside, they heard Derek shout, “Showers! Everyone who was training. Now.”

He pulled back just in time to avoid the mass stampede as they all bolted up the stairs. Despite all of the improvements to the house, there were only four bathrooms in the entire house, but because no one was allowed to use Derek’s private bathroom, technically there were only three, and so it was obvious that they were all trying to get first dibs.

Stiles’ suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly heard Scott yell, “Erica, you cheated! And you didn’t even train, so what the hell?!”

He snorted and made his way to the living room, where he saw Derek sprawled over the couch, one hand behind his head, the other holding a book. He snuck a quick look at the cover and smiled to himself when he realized that it was “Call of the Wild” by Jack London. It was kind of adorable that he was reading that book out of all the books that he owned.

“So, where’s Lydia?” he asked, settling himself down at the other end of the couch, noticing how Derek automatically shifted his feet so that he would have room to sit.

“In the other room on the computer. I think she’s doing some sort of online meeting,” he muttered, turning a page using just his thumb, eyes still focused on the book. “Something to do with statistics and number theory, I think. I don’t know,” he admitted, “I wasn’t really paying attention when she told me…”

Stiles just nodded and took advantage of Derek’s distraction and looked him over.

He was wearing a dark brown sweater that was about a size too big for him, a feat in and of itself, and his jeans seemed to be just as soft, worn out around the knees and the thighs, going white on the thighs with a small hole forming of the left knee, the frayed edges revealing skin underneath, and Stiles had the sudden urge to reach out and poke at it, but he withheld the impulse, and instead just swallowed and nodded, trying to remember why he had come to talk to Derek in the first place.

“So, I hear that you’re taking Erica to find a new coffee table?” he finally said, breaking the silence, using his elbow to gently jostle the man’s shin, and Derek nodded.

“Yep.”

Oh boy, an entire syllable.

He shoved Derek’s legs a bit harder, causing him to look up from his book, and then said, “Mind if I come with you guys? I don’t think I can take much more chaotic wolfie energy, today,” Stiles explained, giving him a look that he hoped looked begging enough. As much as he loved the pack, they could get to him rather badly sometimes.

Derek seemed pleased at his question and nodded and said, “Yeah, sure, not at all. Just, uh…let me finish these next couple chapters first?” He motioned with the book in his hand. “They’re gonna take a while getting clean, anyway,” he explained, tilting his chin toward the ceiling, “And it just so happens this is my favorite book.”

At that, Stiles arched his eyebrow and couldn’t help but say, “Favorite book? Are you serious? Could you be any more of a cliché right now?”, to which Derek rolled his eyes and playfully kicked at him with his foot, hitting his thigh, and said, “Hey, shut up. My mom used to read it to me as a kid and I, you know…I kind of fell in love with it.” He went a bit quiet and Stiles suddenly felt like an ass for making fun of him, but then Derek reassured him with, “Don’t worry, I know I’m a walking cliché. By the way, did Liam really get the drop on Jackson?”

Stiles nodded and grinned.

“Yeah, sure did. Of course, it helped that mister douche was distracted by the stunning decolletage of his girlfriend who was on the back porch at the time,” he lilted, tilting his head slightly and shooting a smirk in Derek’s direction.

The alpha chuckled, the two of them shared an amused look, and then Derek went back to reading.

Derek was right, Stiles thought to himself a little while later, realizing that it was taking the pack a long time to all get their showers. He stretched his neck and reached down and absently rubbed at Derek’s shins, which were currently draped over his thighs. It should have been awkward, but Stiles was used to the physical closeness of the rest of the pack, because they were always draping themselves over each other in completely platonic ways, even Jackson did it with him, and he thought nothing of it. Derek hadn’t done it up to this point, so far, but Stiles just chalked it up to the fact that Derek was finally relaxed for once and not thinking about it.

He adjusted himself on the couch and then closed his eyes, deciding that he might as well get a nap in while he could.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but he heard a snort and what sounded like muffled laughter come from the entryway that separated the living room from the front foyer, and he opened his eyes and saw Erica standing there, fully dressed, smirking as she obviously took a picture with her phone.

“Oh, this is totally going into my blackmail folder,” she crowed, looking far too pleased with herself.

Confused, Stiles tried to figure out what she meant…and then realized that Derek had fallen asleep, his book across his chest, hand still tucked behind his head, his lower legs draped over Stiles’ thighs, and Stiles had been asleep as well, and he flushed, feeling the heat of embarrassment, but at the same time, he desperately wanted a copy of her photo.

Instead of snapping at her, he patted Derek’s calf and said, “Wake up, big guy. Time to go buy some furniture.”

Stiles had fully expected Derek to startle awake, so was pleasantly surprised when the alpha slowly came to, blinking and turning his head and then reaching both arms above his head and stretching, his sweater riding up and revealing a dark trail of hair that lead in a perfect line under his jeans.

Stiles ripped his eyes away.

“Okay, time to go shopping,” Derek said as he swung his legs down from Stiles lap as if it was nothing. “Stiles, you still coming?”

He swallowed and nodded. Yep. He was definitely doing some version of that word.

--

Shopping was hilariously awkward as they wandered through the furniture store looking like the three weirdest roommates ever trying to pick out a new coffee table.

Erica was wearing her usual leather mini skirt and jacket, along with her knee high boots, and was popping gum as she walked, acting for all the world like an irritated teenager-which she was-but Stiles could tell how disorienting it had to look when Derek was wearing sensible shoes, jeans, a t-shirt, and a cowled sweater with large buttons up the front, and Stiles was wearing his torn jeans, a shirt that was size too-small with a pink hippo on the front and a purple hoodie. Laundry day.

They walked through the store talking about what they wanted: Erica wanted something fun and modern, whereas Derek was trying to make sure that it matched the rest of the pieces in the house. Stiles’ only criteria was that it could withstand the roughhousing of werewolves in the living room.

“How about this one?” said Erica, bouncing on her toes and gesturing to a garish red and orange modern monstrosity, popping another bubble and arching an eyebrow, and at this point Stiles felt that she was picking out the worst pieces just to see Derek’s reactions to them.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest and growled, “Erica, at this point I think you’re just trying to piss me off.”

She grinned back at him, unrepentant, chewed her gum loudly, and then shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, stuck her tongue out at him, and said, “Yes, that is exactly what I am doing, mister grumpy cat,” and Stiles couldn’t help but snort at that. Ever since they’d found that meme, Erica had delighted in teasing the older man with it. “I am sorry that I destroyed the coffee table, but did you have to punish me by taking me furniture shopping? I mean, I like shopping, but not this kind!”

Stiles could see Derek was about to say something that he was going to regret, so quickly cut him off and said, “Erica, c’mon, give the guy a break! Besides,” he added, “You know that it was your fault, so you might as well try and make it a little bit easier on him…”

She looked about to argue, stamping one of her heeled boots against the floor like a five-year-old about to have a temper tantrum…but then she rolled her eyes.

“Ugh…fine. Fine. I’ll take this more seriously, promise.”

Stiles shot a look over at Derek, who seemed less tense than before and smiled when Derek said, “Thank you. Now, since we’re having trouble finding one, why don’t we just ask one of the employees to help us find what we’re looking for?” She opened her mouth to protest, and Derek cut her off with, “Please, Erica. I don’t want to be doing this any more than you do.”

Stiles looked between the two of them, unsure if he was needed to mediate again, but let out a sigh of relief when she nodded and relented.

They looked around and sighed in relief when an employee approached them, as if sensing their distress, and the young woman said, “You look like you could use some help. Hi, I’m Liz,” she said, reaching out and shaking each of their hands, “And I’ve seen you look at several pieces already,” she admitted, looking slightly embarrassed, tucking a strand of hair behind her air, “But I’m pretty sure I know what you’re looking for. Something that fits with a craftsman style, but also caters to a modern aesthetic. And sturdy.”

Liz started walking and they followed after her. She then turned a corner and gestured with a hand.

“Something like this?”

Stiles looked at it. Solid legs and a thick top, which meant that it should hold up to the pack’s shenanigans.

He glanced over at Derek and Erica…and was pleased to seem them both nodding, and then Derek said, “We’ll take it,” and the sound he let out afterwards had Stiles walking over to him and nudging him with his shoulder, saying, “That bad, huh?” and Derek muttered back at him, “If I have to spend five more minutes in here, I am going to strangle her,” and Stiles laughed and absently reached up and squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” he said, squeezing it a second time, not noticing the soft look Derek gave him as he slid his hand from his shoulder and turned back to Erica.

By the time they had paid for it, gotten it into the back of the truck that he’d borrowed from Peter, and gotten it home, Erica was antsy once more, looking as though she was about to explode from the car. As soon as the car slid to a stop outside the front door, she had bolted out of the back seat, and Derek yelled after her, “You break one more piece of furniture you forfeit Stiles’ faworkis for Christmas dinner!” and Stiles laughed when he saw her nearly trip over the top step as she tried to suddenly drop her speed.

Stiles then said, “I find it rather amusing that you threatened her with taking away my dessert,” to which Derek tilted his head and said, “Uh, I’m pretty sure that I made them, too.”

“Then why’d you call them mine?”

At that, he could have sworn that he saw a faint pink tinge to the man’s cheeks but was quickly distracted by Derek asking for his help in taking the coffee table out of the back of the borrowed truck. Derek held the brunt of the weight, angling down and back, and though Stiles wasn’t a werewolf, he was no slouch and easily helped him get it out of the back…but just as they maneuvered it to put it down, it slipped off the edge--

--and then it was falling down on top of him.

Just as it was about to hit him dead-on, Derek was there with his superhuman speed and stopped it from landing with it’s full weight with just one hand, the other hand on Stiles’ shoulder, moving him out of the way just in time. For a moment, he was shocked…and then Stiles giggled.

“Oh my god,” he said, falling even further into his laughter, “You just pulled a Twilight on me!”

Derek gave him a confused look, his brow furrowed in a way that was practically adorable, and Stiles explained, “You did what Edward does to save Bella in the very first book and movie, you know, with the car in the parking lot?”

…and then he kept on giggling, laying down on his back while Derek rolled his eyes and got the rest of the coffee table off the truck by himself.

Eventually, Stiles calmed down and said as he stood and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, “My god, I can’t wait to tell the pack about this,” and Derek glared.

“Don’t you dare,” the alpha managed to get out in a tight voice, but it didn’t hold the usual biting tone, so Stiles knew that he could probably get away with telling the pack if he really wanted to, but he knew that he wouldn’t embarrass him that way.

Instead, he walked over and helped Derek take the table in through the front door, and as they put into place in front of the television, Liam and Isaac came in and immediately collapsed on the couch and put their feet up on it as they grabbed their gaming controllers and turned on the tv, while both Derek and Stiles gave them identical looks of annoyance.

And then they heard Lydia’s voice from the doorway, “My god, it’s like you’ve turned into our parents,” and Stiles looked up just in time to see her smirk and walk out of the room towards the kitchen.

Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up.

He shared a quick look with Derek, who gave him a faint smile in return, and felt a warm feeling in his chest. He didn’t really mind the comparison, to be honest.

--

It was the eve of Christmas Eve and Stiles was pleased with all of the presents that he’d managed to get under the tree that Jackson, Scott, and Boyd had hauled into the house. Okay, so it had been mostly Boyd, but he felt it was only fair to include the other two, as well, considering how much they had been pouting at not being asked to participate in any of the Christmas preparations. Derek had only reluctantly let them go and pick out and cut down the tree with Boyd because Stiles had pointed it out to him that they felt left out.

“Because they cause disaster, Stiles,” Derek had argued with him. “I’ve never met two people who attract more problems than they do!”

Stiles had immediately countered with, “Then let’s use that destructive tendency to help get us a good tree!”

Derek had conceded, and now Stiles was pleased to see that Liam had taken the initiative to decorate the tree, wrangling in Allison and Erica, as well as Isaac, to help him. Erica was sitting on the floor with Allison, who was stringing popcorn…while Erica kept on eating the pieces.

“Stop it!” Allison reprimanded, batting at the blonde’s hand, giving her a hard look. “I’m working really hard at this! Do you think that you could not eat the decorations?”

Erica playfully nudged her back, but stopped momentarily, though still sneaking a bite or two, while Isaac and Liam were busy placing ornaments on the tree. Stiles lounged on the couch, tired after dealing with the last of the decorations on the front porch. He watched them with a fond look and cast a casual glance at the ornaments they were using. He’d never seen them before, but it was obvious that they weren’t new.

Curious, he asked, “Hey, where’d you get those?”

“We found them down in the storage section of the basement, in the section that wasn’t burned,” Liam answered. “I think they used to be the Hale’s family ornaments. We thought it would be nice for Derek,” he added with a slightly unsure smile, and Stiles gave him a nod and said, “That’s a nice thought.”

As if he’d just given them permission, the two of them started putting on the ornaments more quickly and Erica had finally stopped eating the popcorn. Boyd was upstairs napping again, Scott and Jackson were out in the back, training, Lydia was upstairs on some sort of conference call with her thinktank, again, and Derek was back in the living room, once more, reading. As he thought of Derek, he smiled to himself thinking about the gift he’d gotten for him that he’d hidden under the tree. It had been a bit tricky to find and it had only showed up the day before. He’d managed to hide it from everyone and wrapped it up in festive green and gold wrapping paper and couldn’t wait to see the alpha unwrap it.

Isaac had put on some sort of Christmas playlist from the Spotify app on his phone and the faint music was enough to eventually lull him into a light doze, where he wasn’t really asleep, but he wasn’t awake, either, and it felt surprisingly pleasant and relaxed.

However, just as he started to drift from his light doze into an actual sleep, Derek’s voice rang out.

“Going out for a bit, guys. Don’t call me for anything!” he shouted, so that the entire house could hear him, as well as Scott and Jackson out back, and then the front door slammed behind him.

Stiles sat up and looked at the door, trying to figure out what was going on. Derek had been doing that off and on for the past few weeks, and he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. The alpha had been leaving the house at around four in the afternoon between two to three times a week, but never on the same days, and he hadn’t told anyone about what he was doing.

Stiles was pretty sure that no one had asked him because they knew that he would just glare at them and not give them an answer.

No one else seemed bothered by it, so he ignored it for the time being and instead decided that he would start on some of the food for Christmas dinner, as well as the faworkis for dessert. This time, he’d also gotten everything he needed for making szarlotka, piernik, and makowiec. He’d shown the recipes to Derek and then the girls had come into the room, seen the pictures, and insisted that Stiles make all of them for Christmas. Normally he would have complained, but he was actually enjoying baking for people that would appreciate it.

Within a few hours, the entire house was smelling like almonds, honey, and oranges as he had the first batch of makowiec in the top oven. Members of the pack had kept on trying to come in and steal bits and pieces of the dough as he was working, and he’d had to chase them all off with the threat of slipping mistletoe into their food.

When Derek came home, however, he sidled up right next to Stiles in the kitchen and practically put his head on Stiles’ shoulder as he stirred a batch of piernik in a bowl and said, “It all smells really good. I could smell it as soon as I turned off the main road,” and Stiles withheld a shiver at the breath that brushed across his jaw and cheek.

“You, uh…wanna try a bite?” he asked, licking his lips, and Derek nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

Stiles lifted his hand, holding the spoon up high enough for Derek to grab, but was taken aback when he just leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the end of the spoon, and seemed to take entirely far too long before letting go of it with a slight pop. He then chewed a moment, swallowed, and said, “That tastes just as good as it smells. What is it…ginger?”

Stiles nodded, swallowing around his suddenly dry throat, and the alpha nodded and then lightly tapped his shoulder with his hand.

“Hope you’re making enough.”

At that, Stiles came out of his odd trance and scoffed and said, “But of course, sourwolf. I haven’t baked this much in years, and I’m actually really liking the excuse to make as much as I want, knowing that it won’t go to waste. It’s nice keeping up an old family tradition,” he remarked, and saw Derek’s eyes go slightly dark at his words.

The older man then nodded a second time and let out an odd sigh as he said, “Yeah. Tradition,” and then walked out of the kitchen, into the living room.

And then Stiles heard him gasp.

Quickly, he grabbed a hand towel and headed for the living room, wiping off his hands as he walked through the door, and then saw why Derek had reacted the way that he had: the tree was fully decorated with popcorn, lights, and ornaments on almost every branch, along with a beautifully hand-made paper mâché star perched firmly on top of it, as well as a few more presents under its branches.

“Oh, yeah, they pulled out some decorations from the attic,” Stiles said, walking up until he was shoulder to shoulder with the taciturn alpha. “Erica kept on eating the popcorn, so it took them a little bit longer than expected, but I think it came out pretty good, don’t you?” he said, gently nudging him in the side with his elbow, wondering why Derek was still so quiet, but when he turned his head to look at him, he saw his eye’s were glistening, like he was holding back tears.

“Der? Are you okay?” he quickly asked, throwing the towel over his shoulder, and reaching out to him.

Derek shook his head, one tear escaping, which he quickly reached up to wipe away with his thumb, and said, “Sorry, I just…I haven’t seen those ornaments since…since the last Christmas before the fire. I didn’t know that so many of them had survived. I just…I assumed they hadn’t.”

“Liam said they found them in a part of the basement that had been untouched,” he explained, and Derek nodded.

“I, uh…I guess that makes sense,” he managed to get out, his voice still sounding tight. “I just…I haven’t really celebrated Christmas for the past few years. Not since, you know…”

His voice drifted and Stiles nodded, knowing that he was referring to the fire. The two of them stood there for a long while, enjoying the sight, and Stiles knew that Derek was probably going through a gamut of emotions. He had a lot of memories, most of them bad, that surrounded the holiday, though Stiles hoped that this year would be the year of changing his mind about how he felt about it. Especially with the gift that he had picked out for him, Stiles thought to himself.

He snuck a glance at the alpha’s profile.

He wasn’t crying anymore, and his serious expression had softened into something more thoughtful and reflective. Stiles wondered what he was thinking about and thought about asking but decided against it and simply stood there with him.

The silence, along with the smell of pastries floating through the house, made it a moment that Stiles knew he would remember.

Chapter 4 - What It Looks Like When You Don't Know How to Give Presents

The next day, Christmas Eve, the entire pack was outside making a mess of themselves.

It had unexpectedly snowed last night, dropping a solid eight inches of powder, and so the pack was taking full advantage of it…and it was hilarious. Stiles was glad that he had his phone out because he was getting golden footage of them going after each other in some of the most unexpected ways.

Stiles laughed as Allison nailed Boyd in the face with a snowball and Lydia managed to surprise Scott and dump a handful of snow down the back of his sweater.

Derek was up on the porch with him, a mug of hot chocolate in his hands, watching the spectacle with an arched eyebrow and giving Stiles an amused side-eye as he continued to take video, as well as the occasional picture.

“Dude! What the hell was that?” barked out Jackson as Isaac nailed him in the neck with a snowball.

“It’s called payback for stealing my game last night!” he barked back at him, but then Isaac was tackled from behind by Erica, who seemed to be trying to tackle everyone, and had already gotten to Liam, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and now Isaac. She only had Jackson and Boyd to go, but Stiles had the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to get the drop on her boyfriend, who seemed to be rolling his eyes each time she got the drop on someone new, while looking fondly at her at the same time.

Scott kept on yelling up at Stiles.

“Seriously, man! Put down the phone and get down here!” he yelled for probably the fourth time, but Stiles rolled his eyes and shouted back at him, “Dude, no! One, I don’t have my winter gear with me, and two, unlike the rest of you, excluding Allison and Lydia, of course, you all have wolfie powers and I’m not planning on getting my ass handed to me!”

Scott groaned, but then was suddenly tackled for the second time by Erica who had used the distraction of the two of them yelling to sneak up on him again and faceplant him in the snow, sprawled over his back, and she howled out her victory.

Stiles then noticed that all the wolves were wearing were long pants and t-shirts, versus the two girls who were bundled up in boots, leggings, and thick winter coats, hats, and gloves.

The disparity was rather amusing, but Stiles also found it interesting as he saw the snow melting on their arms and faces almost immediately. He tended to forget just how warm the rest of the wolves ran, and that had him glancing back over at Derek, who was lounging on the porch swing in his jeans, thick slippers, and, once more, his brown sweater. He wondered how cold the man really was, and if the sweater was really necessary for him.

“Hey, there, Der…you actually cold?” he asked, moving over to sit next to him, and Derek moved over slightly, giving him more room.

The alpha shrugged.

“Not really, but I’m not like the rest of them. I was born a wolf so I actually handle the winters better than they will. Trust me when I say that they’ll be freezing their asses off in about ten minutes, whereas I’m going to be at a perfectly maintained temperature,” he said with an amused tilt of his brow. “The rest of the winter you’re going to see them going from one extreme to the next. It’s tricky learning how to maintain a proper body heat with our accelerated metabolisms.”

Stiles nodded and couldn’t help but scoot closer, feeling the faint heat coming off of him, unable to keep himself from gravitating towards it.

Derek seemed to notice, because he adjusted his position so that his thigh was pressed firmly up against Stiles’ thigh, and Stiles unabashedly leaned into it…and then on impulse, he laid his head down on the alpha’s shoulder. He felt Derek tense for a moment, but then he completely relaxed.

“So…you’re snuggling me for the body heat?” Derek said, taking a sip of his hot chocolate and Stiles nodded.

“Yep. I’m a poor, helpless, cold human who is very cold but also very stubborn. I don’t want to go back inside to get a jacket,” he explained, “And since you’re a walking furnace, I might as well take advantage.”

Derek nodded, took another sip of his drink, swallowed, and then said, sounding amused, “This wouldn’t also have anything to do with using me as a shield to keep Erica from dragging you off the porch and tackling you in the snow would it?”

Stiles shook his head, flat out denying it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sourwolf.”

Derek just shook his head.

Luckily, he was right, and the rest of the pack was clambering up the stairs only ten minutes later, all of them shivering except for Boyd, and Lydia and Allison were the only ones out in the snow, and they had found an unmarred patch of snow and were making snow angels.

As the rest of them thundered into the house, Derek shouted, “Towels are just inside the door! Use them or I’ll have you mopping up your own mess!” and Stiles snorted when heard a chorus of groans and then several thuds as they jostled to get to the towels on the rack next to the front door.

Stiles moved his head from Derek’s shoulder and gave him a look and said, “My god, you are such a dad,” to which Derek rolled his eyes.

“I’m really not,” he said wearily, rolling his head on his neck, and Stiles shook his head.

“Nope. You’re really not convincing me. In fact,” he poked his arm, “You just did a classic dad move. You threatened them with more chores if they didn’t do what you asked them to. Only dads do that, man, trust me. My dad tried to pull that trick on me so many times. Didn’t really work in my case,” he begrudgingly admitted, “But that’s my fault, not his.”

Derek turned to look at him, their eyes locking…and then he asked him in a surprisingly soft voice, “Is…is being like a dad a bad thing?”

Stiles quickly reassured him.

“Dude, no! Not a bad thing at all, man.” He reached back over and patted him on the thigh. “If anything, it just proves to me that you’re a good alpha and know how to take care of your pack. Besides,” he added with a smug grin, “They listen to you, don’t they? And it’s not because of the threats, Der, it’s because they want to. They all look up to you, Derek. All of them. Even Jackson.”

At that, Derek chuckled and stretched his arms out in front of him, above his head, and then dropped them back down to his sides, his fingers curling around the edge of the porch swing and then levelled his eyes with Stiles’. He was disoriented for a moment, but then the man smiled.

“You know, this house wouldn’t have been finished without your help,” he said, sounding so sincere it threw Stiles off balance. “Thank you.”

Stiles nodded and swallowed.

“Yeah, no problem man. I enjoyed it, you know? You deserve to have a home again,” he hesitantly added, unsure if those were the right words, but they seemed to be, because Derek gave him another one of those smiles and nodded and then stood up and said, “C’mon, I know you still have to finish the desserts for tomorrow night. I’ll help.”

And they went back inside, Stiles certain that at one point he felt Derek’s fingers brush against his lower back…

--

Christmas morning was chaos.

Luckily, Derek had mandated that every single one of them had to wait for the entire pack to be there before they could start handing out presents. Stiles was still worn out from Christmas Eve, however, and had purposely stayed in bed until he absolutely had to get out of it and go downstairs. He’d stolen Isaac and Liam’s room, specifically Liam’s bed for the night, and Liam had spent the night in Lydia and Jackson’s room, while Isaac had been in Scott and Allison’s room.

When he finally dragged himself downstairs, he was pleased to see that he wasn’t the last one down. It looked like Boyd and Erica were still up in their room, which meant that he could join everyone else in opening their stockings. Speaking of stockings, the contents were strewn all over the rug and wooden floor, each one of them already eating pieces of chocolate, while Allison and Lydia were trading body lotions and sniffing each other’s wrists.

Stiles grabbed his knitted orange stocking and was surprised at the weight of it. He decided to join Derek on the couch, who looked like he was already worn out, and dig through it there.

Not thinking about it, he sat right next to the alpha, whose blue stocking laid between his thighs, ignoring the fact that there was still plenty of empty space where he could have chosen to sit.

He dug his fingers into the sock and the first thing he pulled out was a dark chocolate orange. Hell yes. He grinned like an idiot, wondering who had given it to him, and then pulled everything else out. There was an obscene amount of dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and some skittles and starbursts, as well. But there was something shoved into the toe. Something heavy.

He finally managed to get it out…and stared at it, trying to figure out what it could be. It was wrapped in plain, brown paper, with twine tied around it in a quaint little bow.

As he stared at it, he noticed Derek shifting next to him, and his eyes giving him a sideways glance.

Feeling like a little kid, Stiles shook it.

He shook it a couple more times, and then Derek rolled his eyes and said, “Okay, now you’re just making fun of it. C’mon, open it up. You’re allowed to, it was in your stocking,” he reasoned, and Stiles suddenly knew that whatever it was, it was definitely from the alpha, so he reluctantly tugged on the string and then carefully opened up the sides.

The rest of the pack was ignoring them, far too engrossed in their candy.

Stiles pulled off the paper and found a small box inside that looked suspiciously like a jewelry box. Okay, what the hell had Derek gotten him and why had he put it in his stocking and why was it in a jewelry box? Feeling a little bit weirded out, but also having sudden, inexplicable butterflies in his stomach, he flicked open the lock on the small box…and was slightly confused when he saw a simple key resting in the center of the box on a military chain. He lifted it from the box, took a long careful look at it, and then looked over at Derek.

“Uh…am I supposed to know what this is?” he asked, and Derek licked his lips.

He then answered, “It’s a key.”

“I see that, I’m not an idiot, Der. But what’s it to?” He waved it in front of his face. “Is it the key to life, the universe, and everything? Because that would be cool, you know,” and Derek rolled his eyes and drawled, “Just…look at what it says, you idiot.”

Confused, Stiles brought it up to his face for closer inspection and saw faint writing on one side of it that simply read ‘Our Room’. And he was even more confused.

He looked back up at Derek and gave him another befuddled look, but just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, Erica and Boyd finally walked in, Erica looking pissed that she was awake, running a hand over her face while Boyd looked like he was holding her by the waist just to make sure that she didn’t fall over, and everyone cheered, Scott yelling, “You made it!”

Liam was the first to say, “Thank god, now we can open presents,” and he lunged for the brightly wrapped packages under the tree and then it was chaos all over again as the presents were doled out.

Stiles was happy with what he got over all: a sweater from Lydia and Jackson, a new pair of slippers from Allison and Scott, a new PS4 game from Isaac, an online gift card from Boyd and Erica to his favorite, uh…adult toy store (thank you, Erica), and a rune pendant on a leather cord from Liam. Though nothing from Derek. He watched as they all opened their presents and was pleased when everyone seemed to have liked what he had gotten them…but he snuck a look over at Derek, who was still next to him on the couch, even though everyone else was on the floor except for the two of them, and noticed Derek was taking a lot longer with his gifts than anyone else because he was, like Stiles, watching everyone else.

It was almost painfully slow to watch when Derek finally opened each of his presents, as if he’d been waiting for everyone to be distracted by their own presents so they wouldn’t make a big deal out of his. Stiles was slightly disappointed in what most of the pack had given their leader.

He saw a pair of thick socks, the gift card that Allison had mentioned, a couple more gift cards, and a deep green scarf that was much nicer than anything else, and Stiles had a hunch that the scarf was from Lydia.

He noticed that Derek had saved his gift for last and he nervously licked his lips, biting at his lower one, unsure of how he would react to it.

Derek took just as much time unwrapping Stiles’ gift as he had the others…but Stiles smiled when he saw the slight sharp intake of breath as he saw the first glimpse of the title. And then he was taken off guard when Derek suddenly ripped the rest of the wrapping off and stared at it with wide eyes.

“This…this is…” He flipped the leather-bound book open to the first page. “A first edition?” he gasped out. “How…how the hell did you…?”

He left his question unfinished, moving his eyes up to lock onto Stiles’, mouth gaping, as if trying to find the right words, and so Stiles put him out of his misery and said, “I, uh, I used my prodigious researching skills to scour the internet and found a warlock willing to trade. He had an extensive book collection, I had some information from our bestiary he needed, so we, uh…did a trade. You, uh, you like it?” he asked, suddenly feeling shy, reaching up and running a hand through the back of his hair.

Derek nodded, obviously still unable to speak.

Lydia, of course, heard the words ‘first-edition’, and piped up, “First-edition of what? Oooh, looks expensive,” she leered, rising to her knees and leaning over to see the book in Derek’s hands.

Finally, Derek said, “It’s a first-edition, leather bound copy of Jack London’s ‘Call of the Wild’…it’s next to impossible to find anywhere. I know because I’ve looked,” he finished softly, tracing his fingers almost reverently over the embossed cover and Stiles felt a surge of confidence at seeing how happy Derek was with the gift he’d picked out for him.

“I’m just glad that you like it,” he said, and Derek looked back up at him and Stiles was taken aback by the sheer amount of emotion in his usually unreadable eyes.

Derek then nodded.

“I love it, Stiles. It’s perfect.”

He reached out with his free hand and wrapped it around the back of Stiles’ neck, like he would with one of the members of the pack, and the heat from his hand went straight through him, and Stiles felt like he had to catch his breath when Derek lightly squeezed, his thumb curling around to graze along Stiles’ jaw.

“Thank you, Stiles,” he breathed out, and he nodded back at him and said, “You’re welcome, Der.”

At that moment, all that he could feel was the two of them…but then the stillness was broken with Isaac groaning from his position on the floor next to the tree, saying, “God, please tell me that we already have breakfast food, because I am freaking starving,” and at that, simultaneously Derek dropped his hand and Allison reached down and patted Isaac’s shoulder and said, “Stiles made szarlotka, and we also have some pre-made cinnamon rolls,” and with that the entire pack seemed to move as one towards the kitchen, leaving Stiles and Derek behind.

Lydia, Allison, and Erica all threw him similar looks over their shoulders before disappearing into the kitchen, however, and Stiles wondered what that was all about. He ignored it, however, and instead turned back to Derek, who had gone back to admiring the book, gently thumbing through the pages and looking at the hand-colored illustrations.

“So, uh…care to explain the key thing, now?” Stiles hesitantly asked, and Derek looked up at him and swallowed.

“Uh, I thought it was kind of obvious,” he answered, looking confused himself.

Stiles shook his head and pulled the key back out of the box and said, “Not really. It just says ‘our room’ on the back of it and I don’t really know what that means. Did you have an extra room put onto the house for me and dad or something? Because I’m at a loss here…”

Derek shook his head.

“No, it’s…it’s a key to our room, Stiles. I’m finally making it official. I mean, after everything that’s happened, it seems only fair,” he said, acting as if he was explaining everything, while Stiles was still completely in the dark to what he was talking about.

Stiles was now the one shaking his head as he said, “Derek, I still don’t know what you’re talking about! Believe me, if I did, I wouldn’t be asking you all these questions! What the hell do you mean by “our” room? Why are you using phrases like ‘after everything’s that’s happened’, Der? I, god, I wish I knew what you were talking about, but I think you’re going to have to spell it out for me, because I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about!”

Derek slowly stood, his eyes wide, book in one hand, and then he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Finally, he said, “When we carved our names into the door. This house. It’s ours. It has been since we finished it, Stiles. I was waiting until I finished the arrangements to the room before I asked you to move in. I thought that because of how I’ve been around you the past few months…I thought you knew that…that…”

He didn’t finish the sentence and to Stiles it looked like he was trying to catch his breath, almost on the verge of an anxiety attack. He didn’t like being in the dark, but he disliked being the person who made Derek so upset, so he tried to put it all together. Okay, they’d finished the house together, marked their names in the door, Derek had been separating himself from the pack, had been spending more time with Stiles, had been treating him like an equal, he’d been letting Stiles lean against him, had been spending time with him in the kitchen and learning about stuff that Stiles liked to do, he’d been…oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Stiles suddenly felt like he couldn’t catch his own breath, and slowly stood, key still in hand, took a step closer to Derek and said, “Wait, are you telling me that ever since we finished the house together, you’ve been…courting me or something?”

Derek nodded and breathed out, “I thought you knew. I mean, you helped me take down the old door, the one that had my mom and dad’s names carved into the side, and so I thought, I thought that you knew exactly what it meant when we…when we did it, too. I don’t want anyone else by my side but you, Stiles. I never have.” He reached out and cupped Stiles’ face, drawing him one step closer to him. “I finished my room so that it would be our room,” he explained, his other hand going to Stiles’ hand that still held the key. “This is for you. It’s not my room, it’s our room, it was always meant to be our room…”

He thought he was about to faint and swayed into Derek’s touch and that caused him to suddenly step right into him, their bodies barely an inch apart, Derek’s arms supporting him as best he could, and Stiles dropped his forehead to Derek’s shoulder and muttered into his clavicle, “I fell in love with an idiot,” to which Derek snorted and patted him gently on the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, so did I, apparently.”

And at that, Stiles lifted his head from the alpha’s shoulder and caught his eyes with his own.

They stared at each other for a long time. Derek’s fingers played with the hair at the back of Stiles’ neck and Stiles hand now rested on the older man’s side. He didn’t know how long they stood there, but he didn’t want to move because it felt like a moment that he didn’t want to leave.

Unsure of what to say, he decided to say nothing.

And then Derek tilted his chin up with a single finger and suddenly their lips were touching, and Stiles was wondering why the hell they hadn’t ever done it before, because it was goddamn perfect. He moaned into the kiss, moving his hand so that it wrapped around the back of Derek’s neck and slid his fingers up into the alpha’s hair, letting out a low groan when he suddenly bit down onto Stiles’ lower lip. Ah, that was good. More than good.

He sunk into it for a while longer, both of them teasing the other, their tongues briefly flicking out to taste the other’s lips, as if not quite sure if they were ready to take it any further, but then Derek slid his hands down to Stiles’ waist and tugged him closer and, wow. Yeah. There was definitely something more there.

Stiles’ hips stuttered in his grasp and he pulled back to gasp for air and said, “Okay, so, uh, yeah…that happened,” and Derek let out a gasping chuckle and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth and said, “So, breakfast first and then spend the day up in our room? Or room first and then food?”

“Food first,” he answered without hesitation.

Derek arched an eyebrow at him and Stiles quickly explained, “If we don’t eat now, we’ll starve, because trust me when I say that once I get you into bed, I am not going to be letting you out,” and Derek laughed.

“Fair enough. Let’s go get some food.”

“If there’s anything left,” Stiles muttered under his breath, and Erica yelled back at them, having heard the two of them with her werewolf hearing, “Hey! I heard that! And we left plenty for you two love birds!”

Stiles felt his cheeks burning as they walked into the kitchen, where the rest of the pack was either around the table, the island, or were sitting on various surfaces, each one of them grinning like idiots at seeing the two of them walk hand in hand into the room.

Jackson looked down at their hands and rolled his eyes and drawled, “Oh, god, you two aren’t going to be the worst PDA couple ever, are you?” Lydia jabbed him in the side, and he grunted and corrected himself, saying in the least enthusiastic tone Stiles had ever heard, “I mean congratulations. Took you two long enough to figure it all out. God, if I had to keep pretending that I couldn’t smell the pheromones--”

“Tell me about it!” interrupted Liam, still chewing on his bite of szarlotka. He then swallowed and added, “Derek’s room is next to ours, by the way, and if you two are going to get up to stuff, then please, please,  get the room soundproofed,” he begged, and Stiles saw the tips of Derek’s ears go red and blushed himself when Derek replied, “Uh, I, uh…I already did that.”

Stiles suddenly couldn’t look a single member of the pack in the eye, but he eventually looked back up and saw that Allison had broken out into giggles and she was batting at Scott with one hand, who was sitting next to her and shaking from laughter in his chair, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed by his reaction, though he did find the humor in the situation, despite the sheer awkwardness of it and the fact that everyone was staring at them.

Erica shot Stiles a lascivious smile and said, “Well, looks like someone’s definitely getting lucky tonight!” even as Boyd shook his head and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist, letting out a long-suffering sigh as she then asked, “So, Stiles, I’m guessing you’re a catcher?”

Isaac scrunched up his face at that and said, “Oh, god, Erica, stop! Would you please stop?!”

Lydia finally spoke up from where she was leaning against her boyfriend’s shoulder and gave them both a soft smile and said, “If everyone could stop acting like ten-year-olds, I’d like to say that I am very happy for the two of you. Like Jackson said, it took you long enough.”

Finally, Stiles spoke up.

“Okay, everyone’s acting they’ve known about this for forever, so I need to clear something up: if you knew that Derek already liked me, raise your hand!” His tone was more irritated then he meant it to be, but it seemed to draw amusement from the rest of the pack, because they all exchanged looks…and then all their hands went up, and Stiles let go of Derek’s fingers to bury his face into his hands and then said, his voice slightly muffled, “How long? I mean, how long has it been?”

Surprisingly enough, Scott answered first.

“Oh, dude, since junior year, at least,” and Stiles dropped his hands and gaped. He looked at his friend for a long moment, and then looked back over at Derek who looked even more flustered than Stiles was, shoving his hands nervously into the front pockets of his sweatpants, avoiding eye contact.

Derek then finally looked back up at Stiles, and at seeing the questioning look in his eyes, he simply nodded.

“Yeah. Since your junior year.”

He looked at him a second longer, and then, mentally deciding screw it, he reached up with both hands and pulled Derek down into another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than their first one, and then murmured against his lips, “I’ve wanted you that long, too…god, we are idiots.”

“No argument there.”

Stiles swung his head up, shocked to hear Boyd, of all people, making a smart remark at their expense. He smirked back at the two of them as he grabbed another piece of szarlotka, pressed a kiss to Erica’s forehead, and then mumbled under his breath as he left the kitchen, “Goin’ back to bed,” while Stiles stared at his back in surprise.

He then looked at Erica, who shrugged at him and at the rest of the pack, all of them surprised by Boyd’s comment, and she said, “What? You do realize I fell in love with him for a reason, right? How the hell do you think he puts up with me? He’s even more judgmental than I am,” she explained, arching an eyebrow at them, “He just knows how to keep his mouth shut…”

She grabbed a cinnamon roll, popped it between her teeth, and then headed back towards the living room, where she’d left her stocking. Everyone just shook their heads and went back to their breakfasts, all of them seemingly over the fact that Derek and Stiles were now, somehow, together. Stiles was still feeling off-balance at the fact that Derek returned his feelings, but he was willing to accept it and move on. In fact, now that he thought back on it, they’d been acting like a couple for a while, and might have been (sort of) co-parenting the pack.

It was wonderful and Stiles smiled when Derek slipped an arm around his waist as he grabbed a piece of his own szarlotka, pleased with the apple flavor that burst over his tongue, wondering if Derek would be having any and how it would taste on his tongue…oh, boy. He felt a part of himself taking interest at the thought, so he quickly shut it down.

They went and sat at the table, Stiles moving towards one of the chairs, and was taken off guard when Derek suddenly pulled him onto his lap.

“Hey! What the hell--?”

Derek said nothing and simply pressed his nose into Stiles’ neck, causing him to let out a noise that he didn’t know he was capable of making, and Allison, who sat across from them, let out another giggle as Stiles attempted to struggle, but soon found it useless as the alpha held him fast in his unyielding arms.

“Okay, guess we’re moving straight from the awkward stage to the disgusting, overly-affectionate-couple-in-public-that-everyone-hates stage,” he muttered, making himself as comfortable as he could on Derek’s lap, taking another bite of his piece of szarlotka. “You gonna let me up off your lap anytime soon, sourwolf?”

Derek shook his head and pretty much nuzzled into him, tightening his hold on his waist and shoving his nose and lips down towards his exposed collarbone, breathing deeply, and even though Stiles acted like he was annoyed by it, the truth was that it made him feel loved and wanted. He had seen Scott do the same thing with Allison, as well as Isaac, and had seen it between Erica and Boyd fairly often, though the large beta was usually fairly discreet about it, and had seen Jackson do it with both Lydia and Liam, even though he’d tried to hide his affections towards Liam, all in vain.

It made Stiles feel like he finally had a place within the pack and he silently preened under the attention, ignoring the eyerolls sent in his direction from Jackson, who was still sitting on the edge of the counter, peeling apart a cinnamon roll, while Lydia rested between his thighs, her head on his chest, picking at a piece of piernik with her fingers, tearing off small bites.

Stiles then felt a surge of warmth in his chest when Derek moved his mouth behind his ear and breathed out, “Thank you for building this home with me, Stiles…”

He turned his head slightly and caught Derek’s gaze, and saw that his eyes were unguarded, completely open, and it just about took his breath away, but he managed to say back to him, “You’re welcome, Derek. You know that I love you, right? That that’s why I’ve stayed all these years?”

The alpha’s mouth dropped open and he licked his lips.

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to hear the words, though he knew that he didn’t need them because he knew exactly how Derek felt about him just from the way that he was acting, so he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and then turned back to the table and grabbed a cinnamon roll for himself, smiling when he saw Scott lean in and rest his head against Allison’s shoulder.

Chapter 5 - I Think We're Alone Now...Mostly

There was an overall feeling of contentment settling over the Hale pack, and Stiles suddenly realized that he didn’t have to leave. He didn’t have to leave! Derek had given him a room with him, and everyone wanted him there, and they all seemed to accept him as a co-alpha of sorts alongside Derek, and…my god, he could stay. As it finally hit him, he felt a grin stretch across his face and he knew that it wouldn’t be going away any time soon, and he was perfectly fine with it.

Eventually they all made there way back to the living room and seized all of their presents and ill-gotten gains from their stockings and headed up to their separate rooms.

Liam and Isaac were the first ones to leave, however, thundering down the stairs and running outside to spend more time in the snow. Stiles was fairly certain that Erica and Boyd were celebrating in their own particular way that he didn’t want to know about, and that Lydia had most definitely gone back to sleep.

He wasn’t sure about the rest of the pack, but all thoughts of them went from his mind as soon as he approached Derek’s bedroom door.

No, he silently corrected himself, Our bedroom door.

He nervously thumbed the key in his hand and Derek stepped up right behind him, his hands once more going to Stiles hips, and Stiles couldn’t help but comment, “Okay, I think you have a fetish for my hips, because it’s like you can’t keep your hands off of them,” and Derek snorted and then chuckled and whispered into his ear, “Maybe I do…why don’t you open up the door and we can find out?”

Oh, boy.

Still nervous, but now for an entirely different reason than before, Stiles stepped forward and pushed the key into the lock…and then turned it. As he pushed the door open, he looked around the room to see if he could tell what the man had changed. The bed was a queen, but the first difference that he noticed after that was that there was a desk in the corner of the massive room and that the desk had a wi-fi router on it, along with a small mini-fridge right underneath it, and through the glassed front he saw his favorite soda stocked all the way up to the top. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing that Derek had set up his own internet separate from the rest of the pack, as well as had sacrificed the space where he used to keep his weights.

He walked the rest of the way into the room, squeezing the key in between his fingers, vaguely aware of the fact that Derek closed the door behind them and locked it, taking in everything else.

The walls were no longer dark brown, but now a sage green, and Derek had laid down a thick oriental rug onto the floor, rich in creams, reds, black lines, and green leaves, which was a perfect complement to the walls of the room. The dresser looked bigger than the previous one, and Stiles walked over and pulled open a drawer…and smiled when he saw a couple of his own sweaters tucked right on top.

“So, you went ahead and stole some of my clothes, huh?” he teased, fiddling with the string on the hood, but Derek just shrugged and openly admitted, “I wanted to smell you near me. Room didn’t smell right.”

He then walked up to Stiles and tugged at the edge of his shirt to pull him closer and said, “And now that you’re here, it’s going to be very hard for me to let you leave,” and then Stiles felt lips being pressed to his neck, a wet tongue sliding along his carotid, along with warm hands slipping up under the back of his shirt.

Oh, holy god, he was about to pass out.

He had gone from being completely oblivious to Derek’s affections to suddenly being seduced in the man’s bedroom in under two hours, and he wasn’t entirely sure that his brain could handle it. So, in a desperate measure to gain some semblance of control, he reached down and gently pulled the alpha’s hands off of him.

“Hey, hey…easy there, big guy. We’ve got all the time in the world, now, so why don’t we just, you know…take it slow?”

At that, Derek glared at him and practically growled out, “We’ve been taking it slow for nearly five years, Stiles. How about we finally get up to speed, hm?”

And then Stiles was suddenly flat on his back in the middle of the bed with two hundred and fifteen pounds of sheer muscle on top of him. He should have been suffocating, but instead all that came though in his head was, Oh, holy hell, he feels so good.

His entire body was pressed in between his thighs in the absolute best way and Stiles suddenly knew that he was probably going to be the neediest bottom ever. He had visions in his head of Derek flipping him over and using him to get off while Stiles just lay there on his stomach, helpless, and he didn’t think that he’d ever been so turned on in his life. Stiles knew, though, that he was going to need plenty of prep before something like that happened.

Derek had slid his hands back up under Stiles’ shirt, and was obviously trying to strip it off him, so he raised his arms and helped him and then turned the tables and reached down and pulled Derek’s shirt off, as well, so that they were on equal footing. Both of them were hard, rutting up against each other, their’ pajama bottoms offering little protection between the two of them.

Derek breathed against Stiles lips, both of them open mouthed and gasping for air as they each tried to gain better friction through their sleep pants.

Finally, feeling irritated and annoyed by the barrier, Stiles moved his hands down the alpha’s unfairly chiseled chest to his bottoms and tugged at them as hard as he could, and let out a sigh of relief when they easily slid off, and then Derek was naked on top of him, kicking off the pants behind him to fall down somewhere on the floor. Derek grinned at him, pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth and then ran his nose down Stiles’ chest to his stomach and then slid his hands under his pajamas so that they were cupping his ass, where he then squeezed once, causing Stiles to clench, and then pulled them down just enough so that his cock popped out.

Stiles gasped as wet lips engulfed the tip of his erection and sucked. Hard. Oh, god, what a way to go. Instinctively, he tried to thrust up into Derek’s mouth, but Derek simply held him down with his effortless strength, suckling at just the tip, his tongue darting out every so often to trace the vein on the underside.

Strangled sounds that he didn’t know he was capable of making escaped him, and he gasped and writhed as the older man moved one hand further between his thighs and pressed firmly on the patch of skin just behind his…oh, fuck.

Stiles knew that he was about to blow, and managed to gasp out a warning, “Derek…I’m almost…god, please, not…not yet…”

It seemed to be enough because he did as he asked and moved his hand away and lifted up from the now glistening tip of his cock, precum sticking to his lips, a thick strand of it still sticking to the head of his cock and Derek’s mouth, and then Derek looked up at him with hooded, dilated eyes and Stiles was afraid that he would blow his load anyway, just from that look. He then licked his lips, breaking the strand, and rose up to meet him, their mouths connecting sloppily, and Stiles could taste part of himself on his lips and it should have been a turn off, but it really wasn’t.

Instead, he leaned into it, licking into Derek’s mouth, the taste reminding him of what the man had just been doing to him, and he suddenly had the urge to do the same to him, but he knew that unless the alpha allowed it, then there was no way that he was going to get any leverage to turn him over and return the favor.

Curious to see if he would let him, he gently pushed at Derek’s shoulder…and shuddered when the man let him turn him over to his back and Stiles straddled him.

The feeling of power, though fake, was heady, and Stiles quickly used the momentary lull to pull his own pajama pants off the rest of the way and threw them to join Derek’s on the floor, and then put his knees to either side of Derek’s hips and pressed his hands to the man’s chest, scraping his fingernails through the hair, loving the contrasting feel of coarse hair and smooth skin.

He took a moment to lean down and press his forehead to Derek’s.

“God, I love you,” he breathed out and then buried his head into Derek’s neck, a semblance of what Derek had done to him earlier, running his tongue along his pulse point and softly grinding down over the man’s prodigious erection. “I love you so much, Derek…”

He felt him swallow against his lips and he replied, “I love you, too, Stiles…”

Unable to help himself, Stiles lifted his eyes and smirked at him and said, “Then you probably won’t mind if I do this, would you?” and slid down his front until Derek’s erection was at eye level, and then flicked his tongue out tentatively, not having done it before, but knowing what he himself liked, and he heard Derek curse above him, and a soft thump told him that he’d thrown his head backwards into the pillow.

He took shameless advantage of his position and slid his hands under Derek’s ass and used the leverage to hold him closer to his mouth. Eager, but also cautious, he wrapped his lips around the tip and gently sucked…and he was hooked. Derek tasted amazing, and Stiles suddenly had the thought that he needed to get the rest of Derek’s dick into his mouth at that very moment. He knew better than to rush it, so instead inched down bit by bit, savoring every sound that fell from Derek’s lips.

He could feel that Derek was trying to keep from thrusting into his mouth, and for that he was grateful.

His lips stretched as he moved a little bit further down his cock and it felt good, especially when he heard Derek let out a strangled gasp when he softly squeezed the flesh under his fingers. Stiles memorized the feel and taste of the skin of Derek’s cock on his tongue, desperate to have even more.

He wanted to taste all of him. No matter what.

When he hit the back of his throat, Stiles noticed there were still at least three more inches, so he reluctantly let go with one hand and moved it to wrap around the base of his cock, his lips meeting his fingers, and then slowly pulled back, sucking strongly the entire time, and Derek gasped out, “Ah, Stiles!” and so he slid back down, enveloping him once more in the heat of his mouth. As he bobbed up and down on his cock, he quickly felt himself developing an oral fixation. Oh, he couldn’t wait to do this all the time.

He didn’t know how long he was down there, worshipping his cock, but it was long enough that his jaw started to ache, and then Derek reached down and touched his fingertips to his shoulder and Stiles felt the ache in his jaw dissipate and he grinned to himself, finding it amusing that the alpha was using his healing abilities during sex.

Encouraged, he sucked a bit more forcefully, and then was pleased when Derek let out a hoarse shout and then called out, “Stiles, I’m…I’m gonna…”

And then he burst over the back of his tongue and he swallowed it down as best he could, enjoying every tremor and twitch of Derek’s body beneath his as he cleaned him up with teasing licks along the crown of his cock as he gently let him slip from his mouth.

He looked up at the man, and he swore he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Derek’s body was soaked with sweat, as well as his hair, and an errant strand curled over his forehead, damply clinging to his skin, drawing Stiles’ attention to his eyes which were wide…and bleeding a faint red. Oh, now that was hot. And then he looked down at Derek’s mouth, which was open wide, panting, and Stiles took pride in the fact that he’d just taken the man’s breath away. He’d seen him run flat out for five miles and not be out of breath, but one blowjob from Stiles and he looked wrecked.

Grinning, Stiles moved back up his body and pressed a kiss to the man’s jaw and then whispered into his ear, “You look so good right now,” and he felt Derek’s body shiver beneath him.

Just as he was about to say something else, he found their positions switched…and he let out a groan when Derek then moved Stiles from his back over to his front so that Stiles was spread out under him exactly the way that he had imagined when they had first started their rendezvous.

Derek pressed his chest to his back, hands on his shoulders, and then leaned down and nipped at Stiles’ neck with teeth that were sharper than they should have been.

“You have no idea how good you smell right now,” he murmured, laving his tongue across the back of his neck, sliding down to his spine and then Stiles realized that he was letting out faint mewls as the older man proceeded to dip his tongue into every little divot as he traced his way down his back. And then…

“Oh, holy god,” Stiles breathed out as he felt a strong tongue slip between his cheeks. He’d never…oh. God.

He tried to arch back into it, but Derek’s hands held him firmly down against the mattress and Stiles had never felt so helpless before in his life…or more helplessly turned on. Sure, he’d read about this sort of thing before, and he’d seen it in a few of the porn videos he’d watched, but he’d never understood the appeal. Until now. And now he felt like every nerve ending was on fire as Derek slipped his tongue over and over his hole, urging him to loosen up for him, and soon his tongue was sliding inside, and Stiles was seeing stars.

He moaned into the pillow, gripping it as tightly as he dared, unashamedly biting into it, trying to figure out how to breathe.

And then he felt something blunt pressing into him, the pressure deliriously good, and he dared to glance back and down and realized that it was Derek’s finger, and he managed to say, “More,” but he sure that it came out more as a needy moan, because Derek looked back up at him, smirked, and then playfully dug his teeth into the flesh of his ass as he slid his finger the rest of the way in, all the way to the knuckle.

He slowly pumped it in and out of him and Stiles was almost crying because he kept on trying to move his hips to push further into it, but Derek held him fast, not letting him move.

After an interminable wait, Stiles felt a second finger breach him, which stung for a second, but then the alpha’s fingers curled in just the right way…holy shit.

Colors burst behind his eyelids as he stroked a spot inside of him that Stiles had never been able to quite reach with his own fingers, and he felt the tip of his cock spurt more precome, soaking the sheets under his stomach as Derek pressed up against it relentlessly, his tongue now tracing along the spot where his ass met his thigh, his fingers doing all the work. And then…a third finger. Stiles gasped and struggled a bit more, arching his shoulders, doing everything he could to get Derek to go faster, harder, but he resolutely kept his sedate pace, brushing up on his prostate with every three strokes, or so. Holy shit, he wasn’t sure he was going to last, he thought to himself as he felt more precome drip from the head of his cock, staining the bedding even more.

He swore he felt Derek grin against him when he swore under his breath, because suddenly the fingers were gone, and Stiles felt shockingly empty, but then he felt Derek’s hands on his hips, hitching them up slightly higher than before, and then…

“Oooooh,” was all that he able to groan out as Derek entered him with his cock, already hard again, spearing him open.

It still hurt a little bit because Derek was thick, but mostly what Stiles felt was a low thrum of pleasure in his stomach that started to lick up his back and down into his balls, and he didn’t want it to end. He did let out a gasp, though, when Derek kept on pushing in, wondering just how big was the man?

The alpha suddenly stopped, and Stiles glanced over his shoulder and saw him with his eyes tightly closed, panting, the veins in his neck standing out as if he was holding himself back…and so Stiles glanced down. He still wasn’t all the way in. Oh, god. He was going to be split in two. And he wanted every second of it.

Realizing Derek needed help, he reached back and slid his fingers over Derek’s, where they rested on his hip in a vice-like grip, noticed that Derek’s claws were out, and then said, licking his lips, “C’mon, big guy. Take me all the way, you can do it,” and Derek’s eyes snapped open at his words. They were bright red. Undeterred, and even more turned on, Stiles pulled at the man’s fingers, linked his through them, and added, “Please. I need you. All of you.”

And those seemed to be the magic words.

With a snarl, Derek tightened his grip on his hips even further, his claws lightly digging into his skin, and shoved himself the rest of the way in and Stiles collapsed back onto the bed, his only points of contact with the sheets being his chest and arms, as Derek now held the back part of him up in the air effortlessly.

Stiles had never felt more full in his life. He’d played with dildos in the past, but this…god, this was a million times better. Derek was stupidly thick and long and Stiles felt that if the man wasn’t holding him that his body would have split underneath all of the pressure. And in that particular position, it felt like the only thing that existed south of his waist was Derek’s cock. And then he started to thrust, and Stiles felt his eyes roll back in his head and he knew that he wasn’t going to last.

Stiles managed to brace himself with his hands against the headboard as Derek pounded into him, at first with a steady rhythm, but then it started to pick up, and he was going faster and faster and Stiles felt tears forming at the corner of his eyes with how good it all felt. It was completely overwhelming, in the absolute best way.

He felt his cock rise even more and then, on one particularly well-aimed thrust, he felt his balls draw up tight against him and he knew that he was close.

“Der, I’m, I’m…I’m close,” he gasped out, unsure if the man was even aware of anything at that point, because all he heard behind him was grunting and the occasional growl, but apparently Derek heard him, because his response was to tighten his grip even further and pull him down even harder onto his cock, and his thrusts became harder and more erratic, and then he was leaning over his back and his teeth bit into the back of Stiles’ neck and--

Stiles cried out as he came, thick lines of come spilling from him and onto the bed beneath him, and he could feel Derek still thrusting and--whoa, what the hell--he was getting bigger?

And then his mind flashed back to some research he’d done years ago and supplied him the answer: knotting.

He cried out a second time at the unexpected pressure from the base of Derek’s cock that was now pressing directly onto his prostate and drawing out his orgasm longer than he knew was possible, and he sobbed at the onslaught of pleasure that wouldn’t let up, still coming, and then sobbed some more when he felt the sticky wet heat painting his insides as Derek came inside him, and his eyes rolled up in his head and he felt faint as the world went black around him.

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when he finally came back to himself, he found them on the floor on a pile of thick blankets, Derek’s cock still inside of him, and he moved a little, just to see if he could, and Derek hissed when his knot tugged at the edge of his hole and pulled him closer, murmuring into his ear from where he was curled up behind him, “Not yet, Stiles…it’s gonna be a while longer before I can…I can pull out.”

He sounded embarrassed, so Stiles reassured him by lifting his hand up and running it through the alpha’s hair and said, “Hey, it’s okay. You just gave me the most amazing orgasm of my life. You’re not gonna hear me complaining any time soon,” and Derek let out a sigh into his shoulder and ran his hand over Stiles’ side and then lightly thrusted into him, as if making himself more comfortable, and Stiles let out a sigh of his own and added, “God, that feels good…”

He heard Derek hum behind him, and just from the sound, Stiles knew he was still feeling unsure.

Desperate to let him know that he hadn’t done anything wrong, Stiles said, “Okay, so the knotting was a surprise, but I enjoyed every single second of it. Obviously,” he drawled, grinning as he rolled his eyes. “It’s not every day that I have an orgasm so strong that I blackout.”

At that, he turned his head to look Derek in the eye and saw a small, albeit smug grin cross his lips.

Derek then worried his bottom lip between his teeth and then said, “So…you really liked it?”

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh and replied, “Yeah, big guy. I really, really liked it. And, just you know, the knotting wasn’t a huge surprise,” he admitted and chuckled again when Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “I did some research way back when Scott was first turned and it took me to some, uh, questionable websites. I didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t, so I ignored most of it, but might have been a little too interested in some of it.”

Derek then shook his head and pressed his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder and said, “Of course, you did.”

Stiles went to turn his head a bit further…but winced as he felt some sort of soreness on the back of his neck. What the…? He reached up a hand and felt around, and then felt Derek’s fingers entwine with his and move them both to what felt like a wound that was already healing.

“Derek, what…?”

He didn’t finish the question, but the alpha answered anyway, explaining, “It’s a mating bite. It won’t turn you, just…it’s sort of a claiming mark, declaring you off limits to anyone that might try and take you from the pack. This lets everyone know that you’re mine.” He went a bit quiet, and then said, “I’m sorry. I just…it was the heat of the moment, and you felt so good on me and you smelled so good and willing, that I just…I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry,” he apologized a second time, and Stiles shook his head.

“Hey, hey, don’t be,” he said, lightly thrusting his ass back onto Derek’s knot, reminding him that they were still joined, causing them both to softly moan. “I wanted this. All of this. I will always want all of you, Der…you understand that, right? That I will always want all of you? That’s why I said it…”

He let his voce drift and smiled when Derek buried his nose into his neck and breathed him in, licking at the bite…

…and then Derek was rolling him to his front and lightly thrusting into him a second time, his knot catching deliciously on the edge of Stiles’ rim, making him groan.

He then continued to thrust, and Stiles felt helpless, his still neglected cock being forced to rut into the soft pile of blankets beneath him.

“Yes, Derek,” he breathed out and that seemed to be the spark he needed, because he began to move his hips faster, pistoning at a speed that no human could hope to match, and Stiles groaned when he felt Derek’s knot swell up a bit more. It only took a few more thrusts and then they were both coming, Stiles crying out as his prostate was relentlessly pressed up against and he continued to come, baffled that he still had anything left in him after last time.

They then collapsed on the blankets in a tangle of hot and sweaty limbs, and Stiles welcomed the weight of him on his back, and said, “Boy, you really like me, huh?”

And Derek broke out into uncharacteristic giggles and then pressed his forehead into the back of Stiles’ shoulder and said, “Yeah, uh…sorry about that. It’ll take a while for it to go down, again. Uh, you just…you just smell really good with my scent inside you. I kind of really like it…”

Stiles smiled and reached around and patted at Derek’s side, and said, “It’s all good. Now, how about we do nothing for a while and then clean up and go back down for some more food?”

Derek nodded and nuzzled into him, rolling them back over to their sides.

“Sounds good,” he said, already halfway asleep, and Stiles smiled as the alpha unconsciously tugged him closer to his hips.

--

A couple hours later, they made their way back downstairs, both of them having showered after they woke up, deciding it would be best if they didn’t share the shower. It proved to be the better idea, as they actually got done in time.

The instant they walked into the living room, however, both of them heading over to retrieve their stockings, Jackson scrunched up his nose and gave both of them a judgmental look.

“Okay, seriously?” he said, “What did you two do? Have an all-out orgy?”

Derek flushed a dark red, so Stiles straightened his shoulders and glared right back at the beta and said, “You’re just pissed that I got sexed up today and you haven’t,” and Isaac snorted, Liam choked on his bite of cinnamon roll, Scott groaned, and both of the girls rolled their eyes.

He sat back down on the couch, wincing slightly as he did, noticing Derek shoot him a small smirk at seeing his reaction. Stiles ignored him and went back to his candy, popping in several pieces of chocolate at once, feeling absolutely famished. He’d burned a lot of calories and in the best way possible. Despite the slight soreness, he was excited to do it again, and looked back over at Derek and gave him a secretive smile, biting his lip as he thought about what else the two of them could do.

Lydia, who sat at Stiles’ feet with her back to the couch, arched her neck and looked up at them and said, “Glad to see the two of you happy. You deserve it,” she added, looking over at Derek.

Stiles saw that he was feeling awkward and so decided to close the remaining distance between them and rested his head on the alpha’s shoulder, knowing that Derek would have trouble initiating such casual, intimate touching between the two of them. Derek was stiff for a moment, but then Stiles gently slid his fingers into his and squeezed his hand and he felt the older man’s entire body relax under his touch.

After a brief second of everyone staring at them, they all went back to their stockings and their presents and Stiles held in a snort when he heard Scott complaining about the socks Liam had gotten him.

They stayed that way for a long while, and soon Stiles’ head had drifted to Derek’s lap, and the alpha started running his fingers through his hair. It was soothing and lulled him into a not-quite-state of sleep. He was floating between being awake and being asleep, enjoying the soft attention of Derek’s fingers as they trailed along his hairline, through it, and then gently moved down to trace the nearly healed mating mark on the back of his neck.

As he pressed him thumb to it, Stiles blearily muttered, “All yours, Derek,” and he glanced up and saw through sleepy eyes that Derek was smiling.

Derek smiled back at him.

“All mine,” he whispered, his fingers still running over the scar.

Things were fairly quiet, until Liam suddenly spoke up from his spot sprawled between Lydia and Jackson, his legs on Lydia’s lap, his head on Jackson’s thigh, and asked, “When’s dinner? I’m starving,” to which Allison responded from her place closest to the fireplace with Scott’s head in her lap, “You just ate! Didn’t you have, like, three cinnamon rolls and five pieces of Stiles’ desserts?”

Before Liam could give a rebuttal, Lydia said, “Yes, he did, but he has like, three stomachs or something when it comes to food. Now, if I remember correctly,” she said, glancing up at Stiles and Derek, “We already have a whole bunch of prepared food, we just have to heat it up, right?” Stiles nodded as best he could from his position, and she smiled and said, gently shoving Liam’s legs off her own, “Then in that case, let’s let Derek and Stiles have a break while you and I,” she pointed at Scott, pulling a groan from him, “Go reheat the food. It’s the least we could do, Scott, considering we didn’t help out much this holiday,” she said, walking over and pulling him up from his comfortable spot.

Stiles snorted in amusement as he watched his friend get dragged off to the kitchen to help prepare (a word he loosely used) dinner for the pack.

Derek then said lowly into Stiles’ ear, “What are the chances that they’ll burn the food?” and Stiles shrugged as best he could and answered, “Eh, fifty-fifty,” and Derek’s expression looked slightly worried as he turned his gaze over his shoulder back towards the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” Stiles said, patting his knee. “Lydia will make sure Scott doesn’t ruin everything.”

Derek nodded, but his mouth was still in a thin line, so Stiles decided to distract him by asking, “Hey, by the way, why did your mom and dad put their names on the inside of the front door when they moved in?” and Derek turned his attention back to him and smiled at the question.

“A friend of theirs actually helped them build the house, so, when they put the front door in, the last piece, they thought it would be good to mark it with their names to show that they had a place that they could always call home.” His voice drifted, and Stiles could tell from the faraway look in his eyes that he was remembering them. “When you helped put this place back together…that was when I knew.” He looked down at him and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “That was when I knew that I needed to keep you with me. Always. And when you carved your name next to mine…I just knew.”

Stiles smiled up at him and then reached up and gently pulled him down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I love you, sourwolf,” he murmured against his lips as they parted, and Derek grinned when he added, “Merry Christmas.”

“The best Christmas,” he replied, darting in and placing a quick kiss on his nose and Stiles smiled.

As they settled back into each other, he mused that the two of them had really gotten the best gifts that they ever could have gotten. Each other. Derek adjusted himself so that Stiles was now pressed along his entire side, him on his back and Derek on his side with his back to the back of the sofa, one leg thrown over both of Stiles. They were nearly asleep when--

--“What the hell did you do?” screeched Lydia. “I said put it in for one minute!!”

“I did!” yelled back Scott and they could both smell smoke coming from the kitchen, along with the acrid smell of burnt food, and then they heard Lydia say, “No, you idiot, you put it in for ten minutes. God! That’s it! Out of the kitchen!”

They heard a scuffle and then a thump as Scott landed on his ass on the floor just beyond their view.

“And don’t come back in here!”

Stiles felt Derek shaking next to him and then looked up just as Derek broke into laughter and Stiles then broke into giggles, himself, and managed to gasp out, “They’re your pack, Derek! You’ve got no one but yourself to blame,” to which Derek replied, finally getting his laughter under control, “No, they’re our pack,” and Stile breath caught in his throat.

Yeah.

They were their pack.

[ughgclden]

bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3

[lnfours]

heartbreak weather: arms of a stranger | t.h

summary: she moved to become something more, he went his own way to become an actor. they’re still madly, deeply in love with each other, just in hopes that in the end the universe will be on their side.

warnings: college!au, roommate!au, language (as usual), drinking, and i think that’s it (?)

wc: 1.9k

masterlist | prev. | next⎜’arms of a stranger’ by niall horan

you could feel the warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin where your neck meets your collarbone. your breathing hitched as a pair of soft lips ghosted over the spot where the breath was just hitting, making you uncontrollably move your head to the side to give him more room.

secretly, you wanted him to mark up your neck, cover it in deep purple and blue bruises. you wanted to feel his palms rest against your hips, the way he’d squeeze them whenever you ran my tongue over his bottom lip.

you were pulled back when you felt his fingers loop on the thin straps of your lace thong, pulling them back before they softly snapped against your skin again,”you know you’re mine.”

you turned in his grip to have your front facing his. you wrapped your arms around his neck and stood on your tippy toes in order to reach his ear.

softly, you whispered,”prove it.”

your eyes snapped open and you looked at the ceiling fan going around and around, breathing heavy. you had kicked the comforter off in your sleep, making you shiver. it had been a while since you had a dream with tom in it, and to be honest, you didn’t know what it meant. 

dream you wanted him, lusted for him, craved him. 

real world you didn’t know what you wanted. you didn’t know if you wanted to be the ‘mysterious girl’ tom holland gets pictured with. you didn’t know if you wanted to make a name for yourself. you didn’t know anything. 

except for the fact that you missed him. a lot. whether you’d like to believe it or not. 

it had been a week or so since he had helped you with putting together your furniture and helping you move into the apartment. you didn’t know what else to say to him, you had felt embarrassed when you asked if the two of you could start with a clean slate again and start over. 

his reasoning to his answer made you think. maybe he wasn’t the same ‘tom holland’ you knew, but you knew that tom would never change to be a bad person. he has too many loyal friends and family members who help keep him grounded. 

but yet again, could you handle being in the spotlight almost everyday, all day, for, god knows, the rest of your life? that you were unsure of, also. 

either way, for the past week, your head has been swimming with thoughts and theories on how you wanted it to work. 

the only problem, you didn’t know what you wanted to work. you weren’t sure of what to do. even your gut was confused. part of you wanted to stay out of it and be content by yourself and your writing, but the other part of you missed the interactions the two of you would have. 

as much as you wanted to be in his arms, you also weren’t sure if those same arms would feel like him, homey and just the right amount of love, or if they’d feel like the arms of a stranger, cold and dull. 

your thoughts were interrupted when tay spoke, startling you slightly,”what are you planning on doing tonight?”

you shrugged, pressing the button on the side of your phone, making it lock itself,”i dunno. why?”

“the boys are talking about hitting the local bar for a game night. they asked if we wanted to join.” she sat beside you, sitting on the couch with a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch.

“you going?” you asked. she shrugged, finishing her bite of food before speaking.

“not without you,” she said,”you should join us. it’ll be fun.”

“i don’t know-“

“c’mon!” she said,”have a little fun! you've been moping around since tom built your furniture.”

you shrugged,”i don’t know, tay. i mean, i look at him and i think about all the things we could’ve been and it hurts. it hurts so fucking bad.”

she put her bowl of cereal down on the coffee table, turning her body to face you,”y/n, i know the two of you both still love each other and care for each other deeply. you two grew apart as two separate people and you've both matured since the last time you two were together. you’re going to have to learn about one another all over again. it’ll take time, but it will pay off. i promise.”

“don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“good thing i always keep them.” she smiled and you shook your head and let out a soft chuckle. she smiled and got up from the couch, offering you her hand.

“now, c’mon, let’s go pick out an outfit for tonight.”

she wiggled her fingers and you smiled before taking her hand as she helped you up from the sofa, the two of you walking off towards your room.

you fixed your hair one last time before shutting the mirror in the visor of tay’s car, looking over at her. she smiled softly at you.

“you look fuckin’ hot,” she chuckled and you smiled, letting the soft blush rise to your cheeks,”ready, darlin’?”

you nodded and the two of you stepped out of the car and made your way into the bar, the music was soft but just loud enough for you to hear when there was no chatter. you found the boys quickly, their table being the loudest in the bar. you spotted that there was an empty seat next to tom. 

did he save me a seat next to him on purpose?

haz spotted the two of you and waved you over,”tay! y/n! over here!”

you two made your way to the table, tay squeezing between the twins while tom moved against the window to give you a seat.

so he did save it for me. 

“hey, ladies.” harry greeted the two of you.

“what’s up?” tay asked and you looked over at tom, smiling softly and saying hi to everyone before they flagged down the waitress and got the two of you drinks. 

“how’ve you been, y/n?” tom asked and you nodded, the rest of the table lost in their own conversation.

“good, really enjoying that bedframe,” you chuckled and he smiled, softly laughing,”how about you?”

“been busy with work,” he shrugged,”been meaning to text you, actually, i just never got the chance to.”

you shrugged,”it’s alright, shit happens.”

he nodded, swallowing a sip of his beer,”but, i was gonna ask if you wanted to go out sometime? just the two of us?”

your heart skipped a beat and you stayed quiet as he kept talking,”y’know, talk about what you had asked the day i built your furniture.”

you nodded and smiled,”that'd be nice.”

he smiled and the waitress put down your drink, making you turn to say thank you. he moved his arm behind you on the back of the booth, smiling at you. you smiled back, and without even realizing, you were falling in love all over again.

the night continued on and the rest of the party decided to call it a night, but you and tom had decided on walking around the city, wanting to just spend a little bit more time talking and getting to know each other all over again. 

“so you fell off the bike?” he asked and you nodded, continuing with the story.

“yep. 10 stitches on my leg because my cousin wanted to be a jackass.”

he snorted,”was courtney wasn’t it?”

you nodded, a small smile on your lips, shoving his shoulder lightly,”you remember.”

“of course,” he chuckled,”pretty big scar you had. still have it?”

you nodded,”yeah, still thinking about getting a tattoo to get it covered, though.”

tom nodded as the cool summer breeze made you silver softly. it didn’t go unnoticed by him, however, as he shrugged off his zip up and wrapped it around your shoulders. you smiled, knowing that trying to refuse would cause more of a fuss; plus it was really fucking cold.

the two of you walked around the city for a little while longer before you ended back up at the apartment building. you two made up to your shared floor, walking towards your doors. you looked down at the time on your phone, not really wanting the night to end. 

however, it didn’t necessarily have to. 

“tay is probably asleep by now if you wanted to come to mine for a while?” 

he looked at his door and back at you as you could hear the muffled noises coming from the boys’ apartment. you smiled as tom nodded his head quickly, you turning to unlock the door. you two stepped into the apartment and he followed you to your room, the both of you trying to be as quiet as you could possibly be. you closed your bedroom door softly, kicking your shoes off and shrugging his zip up off, placing it on the foot of the bed. you smiled at him softly, his head resting on one of your pillows as he lazily smiled back at you. 

“do you mind, uh, helping me?” you asked, motioning to the zipper on your back.

“yeah, sure, love.” he hopped up from his spot and you turned your back to him, letting him reach the zipper easy. you moved the hairs out of his way and held them to the side, letting his fingers play with the metal zipper.

suddenly, the air got thicker and it got harder to breathe. the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. you could feel his heavy, warm breath on the back of your neck. you knew he could feel what you were feeling too when he unzipped your dress slowly, wrapping his arms around your middle when he was done.

“tom-”

“shh,” he said softly, turning you to face him, your noses touching as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. you smiled and he smiled back.

“i want it.” you said, blatantly.

“want...what?” tom asked, raising an eyebrow.

“you… us,” you said, taking a deep breath,”i let you go once before and i don’t want it to happen again. i don’t care if a million people know your name or if you have thousands of teenage girls swooning over you, i care about thomas stanley holland. the boy i fell in love with. the boy i’ve always been in love with.”

he felt his heart stop for a second before starting again,”are you sure-”

“don’t ask me if i’m sure if this is what i want,” you said, pulling on his button up that just so happened to be your favorite,”i know what i want.”

“well, so do i.” he said before grabbing your face and letting his lips meet yours. you smiled into the kiss, remembering the feeling of kissing him, letting him take control over your body for the night. you had missed him, missed this. 

he continued kissing you and you walked forward, making him walk back until his legs hit the edge of the bed. he sat down, pulling you on top of him. you pulled away for a minute, looking at his red, swollen lips from kissing, his blown pupils, his messy hair from you pulling it, his slightly crooked nose that you loved so much.

you smiled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him, letting out a soft giggle.

he smiled back at you, and there it was, that damned smile,”what?”

you shook your head,”i love you, tom.”

he smiled back, pulling you closer as he planted a soft kiss on the tip of your nose,”i love you more. i always have.”

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[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Boxing

The beautiful, talented, amazing and wonderful @artsymeeshee​ has been going through a lot lately and I’ve been wanting to do something for her, so (since I can’t draw chibi Stans or think of a good fic that follows that theme XD ) I thought I would write this for her! Seriously, guys, she’s incredible in every way and deserves all the love in the world, so go give it to her!

I hope you like this fic, girl, and that you’re doing okay. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started back when the Pines family first arrived back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was up in the storage room (It was much fuller than wise, but the attic was used as a bedroom at the moment.) and had dragged Dipper along with her to help find some old photographs. With only two weeks to work on her special birthday present for her grunkles, she needed all the help she could get in making them the perfect gift: a new scrapbook full of old photos of Glass Shard Beach and pictures Mabel had saved on her phone and was going to print of the old sailors out at sea.

Mabel had her hands on a box full of baby photos that she was totally going to use as blackmail. She squealed and then covered her mouth quickly so they wouldn’t get caught when she found a photo of two twin boys sitting in little sailor-suits on their parents’ bed. The one with six-fingers on his tiny fists didn’t look happy, but his brother was laughing and was proud of his new suit. Mabel tucked it into her folder to use for the scrapbook and checked another box. She opened it and was surprised to find news articles for boxing events and pictures of her uncles training. “Wow, Dipper, look.” Mabel said quietly and Dipper sat with her by the box. “Whoa, Stan was really good.” The boy commented as he picked up photographs of a bruised-looking, war-beaten, teenage-version of Stan had a fist up in the air in victory and a trophy in his grasp. Ford was by his side, enjoying stealing Stan’s gimmick of wrapping an arm around his neck and pointing at him as he beamed with pride. “Check out all these first places.” “Wonder where all his trophies…” But then Mabel stopped. There were boxes in this room labeled “trophies”, but all of those were Ford’s from science fairs and spelling bees, because this had originally been his house. Since Stan was kicked out and didn’t exactly have time or space for memorabilia, the trophies were long-gone, probably tossed out by Dipper and Mabel’s great-grandfather. Mabel’s blood boiled and her teeth clenched in a very un-Mabel way. “If I ever see Blendin again, I’m using his time-machine to go back in time and punch that jerk in the face.” She growled. “Yeah,” Dipper sighed and held out some good pictures of when both of the twins were boxing in elementary school. “But hey, these will look great in the new scrapbook.” He pointed out, trying to make his sister forget Filbrick. It worked; Mabel smiled and took some of the pictures. “These are great, thanks!” And she added them to the folder. “They look so cute! And they look like they might be having fun.” Dipper shrugged; to this day Stan still enjoys watching a match and he still gave awesome left and right-hooks. “So, do you need more pictures, or…?” “I think… I dunno, I was hoping to find one of them with Grandpa or Ma Pines. Do you think they’d want that?” Even after the scrapbook had been made and delivered, Mabel still thought back to Stan and Ford’s old boxing days. It was interesting and cool to her, so one afternoon she asked Stan to teach her some moves. She had never seen that old man look so happy. (Except when he announced that he was going to be sailing around the world with Ford.) He took her out to the backyard and taught her how to take a proper stance and how to give good hooks and how to dodge properly. Mabel found she liked the feeling of the gloves and the poses and moves came relatively quickly to her. By the time the sun was setting Stan was laughing and calling her a natural. About a week or so later, Stan left his newspaper on the table to help put out a small fire Ford had started due to an experiment gone bad, and Mabel saw an ad for boxing tryouts. There was a team right outside of Gravity Falls and the whole thing was over by the end of the summer, so Mabel could join if she wanted. When Stan came back and finished his newspaper, he put it in the newspaper bin (used to start campfires or for arts-n’-crafts) and Mabel swiped the article for the date, time, and location. Dipper woke up the next morning and found Mabel’s bed, as usual, empty. But then as Dipper was scrubbing his eyes he heard something weird outside. He looked out the window and stared to find Mabel in pink work-out shorts, a white t-shirt, and her hair up with a scrunchie as she punched a tree with boxing gloves. Dipper slipped on some shoes and his hat and vest and hurried outside. “Mabel, what are you doing?” He asked when he got behind her out in the crisp morning air. “Training for the boxing tryouts.” Mabel said as she worked, punching a tree so hard a branch fell off. Dipper smiled proudly and said, “I wanna help.” And so history repeated itself as Dipper hurried to the library after breakfast and found books on proper diet techniques and he looked up video-tutorials on great workout routines. He rode his bike besides Mabel and used her megaphone to cheer her on as she jogged down the dirt road. He wore a full on pillow-bodysuit so Mabel could punch something that moves and tries to punch back. Dipper even made her protein shakes with raw eggs and other stuff to help her keep her energy and he poured her Mabel Juice down the drain, earning him a raspberry courtesy of his twin. The kids were careful to keep it a secret, Mabel insisting she wanted to surprise Stan and Ford by coming back with a real boxing uniform and a declaration that she made the team. Dipper supported her one million percent and on the day of the tryouts, they hopped on a bus for the gym. Dipper walked with Mabel in her workout-gear, hands in his vest and a proud smile on his face. They walked into the correct room, the one with a big ring and some bleachers, and found Mr. Poolcheck’s cousin, Mr. Boxcoach. The cousins had the same tight-face, sharp jawline, and popping vein, and they were both equally scary, but Mr. Boxcoach’s legs weren’t skinny and perfect for swimming, rather bulky and perfect for boxing, and he had oily brown hair. He wore a blue-jacket over a white t-shirt and he had a whistle around his neck and a clipboard in hand. Boys from neighboring towns were there to try out, too, and more were approaching. Mabel and Dipper walked up to Mr. Boxcoach to properly introduce themselves and before any of them said a word, the scary man asked with his eyes down at his clipboard, “What’s your name, son?” “Oh, no,” Dipper shook his head and patted Mabel’s shoulder. “I’m not here to try out, but my sister is.” “Hi! I’m Mabel.” She said cheerfully, almost bouncing where she stood with excitement. Mr. Boxcoach finally looked at them and snorted. “Yeah, no. I’m not putting a girl on my team.” Mabel’s smile dropped. Dipper saw the devastated look on her face and he had to try extremely hard not to lose his temper. “Why not?” He asked. “Whaddya mean, why not, she’s a girl.” Mr. Boxcoach said like it was obvious and he tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I mean look at her, a butterfly clip in her hair and a bright-pink scrunchie. They’d eat her alive out there.” “So what if she takes good care of her hair and likes pink?” Dipper snapped. “Last I checked, that has nothing to do with how good she is. She’s really tough, just let her try, she’s got a great left-hook!” “Listen, kids, it’s anarchy out there…” “She can handle it!” “... there is no way I’m letting a girl on my team.” Mr. Boxcoach said firmly. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in my boxing ring.” Dipper narrowed his eyes, seeing red, his whole body shaking with rage. “You won’t even let her try out?” “Nope.” Dipper was ready to yell and make Mr. Boxcoach rue the day he underestimated Mabel Pines, but one glance at her told Dipper that she looked ready to go home, so he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out the door. “Forget that jerk. Wanna stop by that new candy store in town? I think they have a new safer Smile-Dip.” He offered softly. Mabel shook her head and pulled her hair down, her scrunchie on her wrist. “I’d rather just go home.” “Okay, sure.” Dipper tried to smile comfortingly at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes and Dipper could tell that she didn’t need smiles right now. ~~~~~~~~~~ Waddles was asleep under the card table while Ford and Stan played poker on the table. Ford slammed his cards down as his brother laughed maliciously and scooted the loot to his side of the table. “You cheated!” “Probably, wanna try to prove it, Wise Guy?” Stan dared. “Oh, you little…” The door opened and closed and the old men smiled to see the kids return, but they were unhinged to find Mabel in unusual attire and hurrying up the stairs with tears in her eyes. The bedroom door slammed shut and Waddles woke up and trotted up the stairs. “What’s wrong with Mabel?” Stan asked. Dipper sighed and collapsed in the armchair. “Mabel wants to be on the boxing team.” Ford and Stan exchanged proud and surprised looks, but they also remembered that their little girl was upset right now. “Did she not make the team?” Ford guessed sympathetically. “She didn’t even get to try out.” “Why not?” Stan pressed on when Dipper fell silent and didn’t look in a hurry to tell more of the story. He gave them both a careful look, like he was debating if it was worth telling them, but he eventually said, “Coach says he wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in his ring.” “WHAT?!” Stan stood up quickly and looked just as mad as he did back when he discovered that Mable and Gideon were dating last summer. “And you were okay with that?!” “Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly, not enjoying the fact that he was assuming Dipper didn’t do anything about it. “No! I tried, but there was no changing his mind.” Dipper defended and crossed his arms over his chest. Stan marched across the room. Ford stood up and asked, “Where are you going?” “To be mad at somebody new!” “Uh, oh.” Dipper said as Stan angry beyond reason. When Mabel heard Waddles scratching at the door, she forced herself out of bed to let him in. He hopped up on the foot of the bed and let Mabel lie her head on him and cry on his soft pink body. She hugged him and cried her heart out, disappointed and feeling stupid for thinking she even had a shot at boxing like her hero. A soft knock came at the door and Mabel looked up to find Stan at the door. She quickly wiped her tears away and her face dry; she didn’t want him to see her cry and think she wasn’t tough anymore. “Hey, everything okay, pumpkin?” Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay…” “C’mon, Mabel, you can’t lie to an old conman.” Stan said and sat by the head of her bed. “Plus Dipper told me what happened.” He added, unable to take all the credit on him just being that awesome and smart. Mabel’s eyes filled with tears and she shut her eyes to try to hide it. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed. “Snitch.” Mabel mumbled, making Stan snort. “I wanted to surprise you, make you proud.” “Whoa, hey,” Stan halted. “First off, I’ll always be proud of you. Always. You’re my little fight, whether you’re on some stupid team or not. That’s sweet that you wanted to surprise me and rub it in my face that you’re way better at boxing than me, but you don’t have to hide anything from me.” Mabel hiccuped a laugh over his little joke and she wiped her tears on her arm, feeling much better. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.” “No problem, sweetie.” He looked her dead in the eye and asked, “Do you really wanna box?” Mabel wasn’t sure if he was asking because he wanted to make sure she didn’t want to box only to make him proud, or he was about to do something stupid. Either way, she wanted to be honest. She nodded and gave that Pines-gleam in her eye, the one that promised trouble and was fed off of determination, pride, and hard-work. “Yeah, I do. But the coach…” “I don’t care, get your gloves and let’s go.” Stan motioned a hand for her to follow and she did as she was told, following her great-uncle out of the room and eventually out of the house. ~~~~~~~~~~ Luckily the tryouts were only half done when Stan had Mabel’s hand and was walking her back inside the room. Her soft brown eyes found the scary Mr. Boxcoach and her hand tightened around Stan’s. “That’s him.” “I got this.” Stan muttered back. “OY! Veins! You and I need to talk!” Mr. Boxcoach had to whistle a match to stop and he turned to the new arrivals that stood outside his ring. Stan climbed up swiftly and had his hands on his hips, a suave, strong man in a suit looking deadly with cold brown eyes and tight fists just right for throwing a good punch. The atmosphere got ten degrees colder as Mr. Boxcoach realized he had talked badly about Stanley Pines’s girl. “Yes, sir?” He asked casually. “You tell my grandniece she can’t box?!” “Oh, well I was only looking after her…” “Well she doesn’t need you to look after her! She can look after herself and do a better job at it than most grown-ups!” Mabel, meanwhile, was turning pink with pride. “And you’re gonna give her the same chance you would give any other boy!” “Or what?” Mr. Boxcoach snarled. “Or we’re gonna have problems.” Stan growled and even Mabel felt a shiver go down her spine. Despite being the same size, Mr. Boxcoach looked significantly smaller than Stan. Mr. Boxcoach swallowed and then huffed, “Fine. Kid, you’re next. You’ll go against Drake.” “What?!” The pale sandy-haired kid with freckles yelled. He was one of the two already in the ring. “I’m not boxing with a girl!” “Why not, your friend is.” Mabel snapped. Stan swelled with pride and the other boy, a dark-skinned boy with brown curls, “oh”ed with a smile and said he’d fight her. Stan patted her back and said, “I’ll be in the bleachers. Kick their butts.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Ford and Dipper were watching the Used To Be About History Channel when Stan and Mabel came back home with huge smiles on their faces. “Guess who’ll be in boxing matches this summer?” “Mabel, that’s wonderful!” Ford cheered and gave her a hug when she hopped up on his lap in the armchair. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” “Me, too.” And Dipper ruffled her hair from the dino-skull end table. “I knew you’d make the team!” “And I got a date!” Mabel added joyfully and punched the air in victory. “You did?” Ford asked, bewildered how boxing could lead to romance. He looked at his brother for clarification. “She did?” “It was a productive afternoon.” Stan simply said as he hung his suit jacket up. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel climbed up into the ring, her hair up in her pink scrunchie and her little butterfly pinning back her hair so she could see her opponent. She wore red and the enemy wore yellow, like gold without the sparkle. She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth, taking her stance. The big, nasty boy with crooked teeth snarled at her, ready to take her apart, free to dominate and humiliate a girl, but that wasn’t going to happen. Just before the bell rang, Mabel glanced over to the bleachers and saw her boys screaming and cheering her on. They had painted their faces red with a white stripe down the center and Stan wore his red Hawaiian shirt, Ford his turtleneck solo, and Dipper held a sign that read “GO MABEL GO!” in big red letters with stars all over it and tons of glitter. He cleared his throat mid-shout and coughed up glitter, proof that he had made the sign himself. Mabel grinned and focused on the scummy teenager in front of her. The bell rang.

[doglover502]

GAAAHH OKAY WEREANIMALS AGAIN what animals are they, exactly? (🤫❤)

Alright I've been WAITING for someone to ask this so I can nerd about the thought I put into these (for context for y'all, it's this AU)

For length sake (and cause they're my favorites cause I'm biased), we'll keep it to the original Island cast (plus Sierra and Alejandro)

Owen- Bear. Cause he's big, tends to eat a lot, and claims how he's a woodsman "naturalist". He also has a lot of interactions with bears on the show.

Gwen- Dragon. She mentions having lizards at home, and something about a goth dragon is badass. Plus, in Dramarama Ella turned to a dragon and there she was her cousin, so it's cool to think if she got really really mad she would too.

Heather- Panther. Heather has always had major cat energy, like even before it was revealed she owned a cat. And a black panther kinda fits her hair.

Duncan- Skunk. It started as a joke about how his attitude stinks, and he kinda melded into it. A tough guy no one wants to mess with like how no one wants to mess with a skunk. (His green hair even extends to his tail skunk stripe)

LeShawna- Badger. Honestly, LeShawna was the hardest to pinpoint, and I just picked badger cause to get the list done (fun fact, originally she was a porcupine). Again, she melded into it. Sweet and loving, but can also rip your face off if prompted, like a real badger.

Geoff- Otter. Playful, fun, easygoing, and a love for the water. Had Geoff written all over it

Izzy- Hyena. Something about a hyena suits Izzy; crazy, loud laugh, but definitely a force no one wants to reckon with.

DJ- Deer. They're big creatures, but also gentle and graceful. DJ is just deerkin.

Lindsay- Tabby. Another one to hard point (she was actually the last contestant that got an animal). Eventually tabby because they're agile (and she does gymnastics), and relatively nice and unassuming (but still smarter than she looks). Lindsay gravitating to Heather as a friend in Island in this AU is partially because Heather's also a cat, albeit a bigger one.

Bridgette- Seal. Bridgette's technically more a selkie than a "were", in that she can control it with whether her hoodie's on and off, unlike everyone else who seems to only have partial control. Seals are also fun loving and love the water so it suited Bridgette too

Trent- Human. He was the normal guy in the show, so it makes sense he's the normal guy here.

(he almost was a donkey cause he low-key tryna smash a dragon)

Harold- Bug. Harold's unique in that he's not pinpointed down to transforming into one specific bug, but actually a variety of bugs, like how he has so many wicked skills throughout the competition

(It's also a reference to how everyone's annoyed with his fact spilling, i.e. a pest)

Courtney- Raccoon. Courtney just screams raccoon; smart, conniving, and her taste in men is trash

Katie and Sadie- Lovebirds. They're constantly together, and get upset when they're apart for a few Island episodes. Just like real lovebirds.

Beth- Pig. She comes from a farm and mentions a pet pig. This was pretty easy.

Cody- Rabbit. They're tiny, unassuming (but still badass in their own way), and are great at multiplying (well, Cody's only great at the math kind of multiplying, but it still counts). Also cause Cody on the show is sure he's gonna die a bunch of times, and AU rabbit Cody feels the same (especially cause most of the other contestants can change to predator animals).

Tyler- Chicken. This was more for comedy with Tyler's fear of chickens, and his were being a chicken makes his phobia extremely ironic. And how he's not great at athletic, and quite literally has chicken arms.

Justin- Wolf. This guy already kinda looked like a Taylor Lautner wannabe, so why not take it further by having him constantly look like something straight out of a Twilight movie?

Noah- Dog. He mentions having a dog many times, and...I dunno something about it suits him. The same chaotic energy Noah has, in that here, he's smart enough to hack into a video game system, but still dumb enough to bark at his reflection for 3 hours. Also him having a dog tail constantly sticking out that always gives away how he actually has feelings.

(also more specifically, a dachshund cause he tiny)

Eva- Tiger. Tigers are badass. Eva is badass. Enough said.

Ezekiel- Boar. I actually didn't choose this one, a friend of mine I was talking to about this with did. But it kinda fits him considering he's also from a farm, and kinda turns feral later on in the show, like how wild boars exists.

Sierra- Hyena. Cause like Izzy, she's also crazy, but in a much scarier way (like real hyenas vs fictional ones). Here, Cody takes her romantic interest the wrong way and thinks she wants to eat him (I mean she does but not in that way)

Alejandro- Jaguar. In the Hawaiian Aftermath, they chose a jaguar as his spirit animal, and frankly there they list all the reasons why for me.

[pastelpinkcheeks]

Tolkien Secret Santa 2020!!!

Here’s my gift for the 2020 exchange! Happy holiday to y’all ( @officialtolkiensecretsanta ) and a fantastic New Year ! This was written for @stormwarnings​ uwu I hope you find it cute and funny and that there aren’t many typos on it... I am really bad with the typos. Anyways. Have fun!

Title: In which Thorin learns about Hobbit Christmas 

Rating: G

Summary:  Decorations up in mid-November, a pantry filled to the brim with food and declaring war on your cousin because of presents? It's the Christmas holiday at the Shire and Thorin wants to know all about it.

Read it under the cut or at AO3! 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28287660

 The hobbits had this thing called Christmas and Thorin was just discovering how much of a big deal it was. Oh, he wasn’t an ignorant old dwarf, thank you very much, he had some idea of what this Christmas holiday was supposed to be. There were feasts, and celebration, and presents, very similar to the dwarven traditions of Yuletide.

All in all, probably not that much of a big deal. Just harmless winter time fun!

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

It was the middle of November. Thorin was happily bouncing young Frodo on his knee and reading him a children’s story. Only five months since he decided to move into the Shire with his dear Bilbo and Frodo already adored him. The young man was nothing but a toddler, but Thorin was terribly blessed at how quickly he managed to charm Bilbo’s nephew.  Young hobbits weren’t always fond of his rugged looks, and his beard was always raising suspicion around the Shire. Fortunately to him, Thorin was amazing at making different voices for the characters.

“…and then they lived happily ever after.” Thorin finished the book, making the three-year-old clap his little hands in a mismatched rhythm.

That was when Bilbo dropped a heavy box by his feet, startling both dwarf and hobbit. “Good, you’re done! Frodo, darling, guess what we’ll be doing today?!”

The young toddler stared at him with wide eyes. “Dunno?”

Bilbo smiled and opened the cardboard box. “We will be putting on the Christmas decorations!”

Frodo shrieked and hopped of Thorin’s knee, falling to the ground on his chubby knees and palms. He quicky raised back to his feet and dove inside the cardboard box, pawing at all the colored tinsel. Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“I thought your Yuletide celebration only happened in the end of December.”

“Yes, Thorin, but we start decorating earlier.” Bilbo said as a matter of fact.

“You start decorating in November, then?” He hummed, wondering why bother decorating before Christmas itself was knocking on their door. Wouldn’t they be tired of the decorations by the end of December, when the holiday was due to happen? He did not mention that, though, because both Frodo and Bilbo were happily scavenging inside the wooden box.

He ought to write that down. Get used to the Shire festivities!

    And the Shire was boiling with celebration all over the place. Bilbo was consistently sending Thorin to the market to buy more and more food, and even though Thorin had no problem with eating a lot or stocking up food, their pantry was starting to cranky under the weight of all the stuffed hams, salted pork meat, gigantic pumpkins, pots and more pots of honey, a lot of bottles filled with red wine, dark ale and blonde beer. There were also huge blocks of hard cheese, and small blocks of blue cheese pilled on top of each other. Not to mention the vegetables, that, for all Thorin knew, would be stale by the second week of December.

“It’s just in case one of the in-laws drop by and we have to make a quick feast.” Bilbo ushered him off whenever Thorin complained.

“A feast is never quick, Bilbo.” Thorin frowned. In the paper Bilbo had just gave him, there was a small list of items to buy. “Why do we need an entire mutton?”

“Oh, I don’t know, why do we need it?” He placed his hands on his waist, tapping his overly large foot on the wooden floor. “Because it is Christmas!”

If the cranking pantry was worrying Thorin – Frodo can very much be standing under one of the wooden planks when they inevitably break down from the excessive weight! Have you considered that, Bilbo?! – he had not been prepared to deal with the market in the beginning of the third week of December. Not even the halls of Morgoth, during the first age, had been as crowded with mad creatures as that market. Thorin was blessed with height, otherwise he would have been swallowed by the crowd of fussy hobbits.

Patiently, Thorin stood by and waited. Everyone around him was yelling, leaning on the counters and trying to get their goodies first than the others. Fussy hobbits, Thorin thought with a frown. He could be the arsehole and use his louder, deeper voice that compared to theirs was like thunder, but he wanted so much to be a good lover to Bilbo, and he wanted to charm his family. He couldn’t be that guy who went to the market to yell at other people. He couldn’t be that guy.

So, he waited patiently in line and bought all the goodies Bilbo had beautifully written down on his note. Thorin always loved his calligraphy, how he added little dots on top of his letters that more looked like small crystals.

    The other thing he learned was that entire feuds were held over not giving a gift to someone during the Christmas week. Not during Christmas day, no, not that. That was too late for hobbits standards. If you actually cared for friends and family, sending presents had to be done till the Christmas eve otherwise you were as good as declaring war on them.

And Bilbo was considering finally declaring war on his cousin, the dreadful Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

“Is it worth it?” Thorin asked, fixing the golden tinsel that Frodo had ripped from the top of the entrance door. “What is it about the Christmas spirit again?”

“Oh, don’t you even start.” Bilbo tapped his feet. “Every holiday I give her something good. Something made of silver, or perhaps a new embroidered apron. And guess what? The damned woman will still try to abscond with my silverware.”

“Maybe…” Thorin touched his beard. “Maybe you should give her something extremely valuable. You should humble the woman until she is too ashamed and won’t even try to steal anything.”

“Or perhaps I should give her absolute garbage since she will inadvertently pick something else from this very house!”

And Thorin sat back on the armchair, watching as his lover fussed around the house, trying to select whatever piece of trash he could find lying around the house. Frodo appeared a few minutes later, his child-like voice asking what his uncle was looking for. Thorin bent down and picked him up, setting the young hobbit on his knee. “Your uncle is going on a personal vendetta against his cousin Lobelia.”

“What’s vendetta?” Frodo asked.

“Well… it’s when someone does something bad and you decide to do something bed to them as well.” Thorin frowned. Perhaps he shouldn’t be teaching something like that to young Frodo, and shouldn’t be telling the young kid that his uncle was a mean little bastard when he wanted to. “Actually… why don’t we go wrap up the presents and leave your uncle to his own devices?”

Little Frodo happily nodded and followed Thorin to one of the many rooms inside Bag End. Thorin was sure Frodo had quickly forgotten all about ‘vendetta’ when later that week, during the Christmas, he quickly found out just how good the memory and understanding of a three-year-old could be. When Bilbo was, with an overtly sweet smile, delivering his neatly wrapped present to Lobelia, little Frodo asked:

“Is that the vendetta?” While pointing to the colorful present.

“The what?” Lobelia blanched, frowning at the kid.

Bilbo paled. “Now, where did you learn that word?! Little kids really have a fascinating way of learning, don’t they? Frodo, dear, come, let’s get you another cookie in reward for your excellent vocabulary.”  Said Bilbo while hiding the present behind his back and taking Frodo by the hand.

“But what about my gift?!” Lobelia asked, still confused by Frodo’s words but greedily staring at where the package had disappeared.

She would, obviously, receive her package later. Not the collection of old toothpicks Bilbo had smugly wrapped up in a big box, but a bottle of old brandy he received from Lord Elrond himself. Next year, perhaps, he would fool Lobelia and give her what she deserved. But the important part about a vendetta was not letting the victim know about it!

Now… Bilbo asked himself while he quickly wrapped up the bottle, where did Frodo learn that word?! It didn’t take Bilbo two seconds to figure out where he learnt that, or, even better, whom he learned it from.

    Despite Thorin going on and ruining Bilbo’s marvelous plan of fooling Lobelia without technically declaring Christmas war on her, he couldn’t stay mad at the big oaf of a dwarf he had brought into his home. Their first Christmas together, and Bilbo was immensely appreciative of how much Thorin was trying to learn Hobbit customs and blend in with Bilbo’s gigantic family and never-ending family drama. He already loved Frodo, which covered the essentials, but seeing Thorin learning some of the Shire Christmas carols really warmed up his heart.

And, boy, did he sing them in dwarven fashion, all low notes and rumbling voice?

It was nearly morning when Bag End was finally clear of family members. Frodo was asleep, had been asleep for hours now, and Bilbo was putting the trash out. Thorin was smoking outside, and the Sun was making the sky shine in different colours. It was now light enough to see without the aid of a lamp.

Bilbo sat down next to Thorin. “How was your first Christmas experience?”

Thorin let out the smoke and tapped the pipe down, removing the burnt leaves. “You hobbits take it very seriously. It was enjoyable.”

“Even after all the times I sent you to the market?”

“Even after the multiple lines I had to stand by.” Thorin nodded and smirked. “Now, were you consciously sending me away? I thought you were too busy that you weren’t even noticing that.”

Bilbo snickered. “I wanted to make sure we had everything in case anyone would drop by earlier than the Eve, but, in honesty… I like it. Having this domesticity between us, being able to send the mighty King of Erebor whenever I wish to buy, I don’t know, carrots and salted pork.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Thorin… this, this thing… it works, doesn’t it? Do you feel like it works? God, am I rambling? Sometimes I get overexcited.”

“It works.” Thorin said, making Bilbo shut up all at once. He leaned down to kiss Bilbo’s curls, the little braids he himself had put there. “I wasn’t sure I could trade rock and stone for sunny meadows and green hills, but it works.”

Bilbo stared at him. From the greying hair at his temples to the sharp tip of his nose. Wow, Bilbo thought, enamored, what a dwarf! He looked around for a second; in the next weeks the Shire would be snowy and wintery, but so far, it was only December. None of them were too fond of snow.

“Next year, maybe, we should go to Erebor. So you can teach me about your holidays.”

“It involves less fussing about unexpected relatives dropping by and more drinking competitions.” Thorin warned.

Bilbo’s nose twitched. “Then you better have some sugar and grease to help me with all that speculative drinking.”

“I will keep that in mind.”