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fitzs-trained-monkey · 2 years

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Christmas at the Compound: "Couple" Days of Christmas

Day Four: Precious Moments

Special things he does just for you. This one's for my fellow disabled lovelies.

Finn:

You hated cars. Hated them. You didn't care if that was a strong word to use, it was accurate. It was a car accident that had taken your mother's life away and nearly taken yours as well; thus, of all the things in this world, it was cars that you hated the most. But at the same time, you really loved Christmas lights. There was this event that the state park hosted every year - one hundred miles worth of lights, strung through the trees - and just the idea of it seemed so magical. Except you had to ride in a car to go through it, and you simply could not do that so you figured it would be best to just let that idea go and spend your time baking instead.

"It's a beautiful night," Finn said from the doorway of your kitchen. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "OH HOLY-"

"Night?" He grinned and that was enough to halt the string of profanity about to leave your lips.

"Yeah, lets go with that."

He huffed a laugh and stepped through the door, moving to lean against he counter next to you. "So... would you like go?"

You looked down at your rumpled pj's and fuzzy slippers and then back up at him, raising a brow. "On a walk?"

"Yes."

The half-eaten cookie dough mixture you'd been working on drew your gaze. "Now?"

"Yes."

"But... cookies." You whined.

"You can bring that with you," Finn smirked.

You frowned. " That's not socially acceptable."

"Your point?"

Blinking, you grabbed the mixing bowl of cookie dough off the counter and snatched a blanket off the back of the couch. The only thing you changed about your outfit was your shoes. It was a shame to part with them but you figured the slippers would be just a wee bit impractical trudging through the eight inches of snow outside. Slipping a pair of boots on, you were out the door without another word.

"Make sure to lock that," You called out, scraping more cookie dough into your mouth. Did you care what you looked like? No. No, you did not. Finn huffed. You waved your spoon over your shoulder at him. "Better watch that attitude, sir. I am under no obligation to continue supplying sweets."

"That wasn't me," Finn replied from behind you.

"Hmm?" You finally looked up, only to be met with a sight that defied all expectation.

There was a horse-drawn sleigh standing in your driveway. You whirled around, and jabbed the spoon in your hand at the old-fashioned vehicle. Your expression demanded an explanation.

"I thought we might go see those lights you're always talking about," Finn said, tucking his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat. "If-if you want to, of course..."

"You bet you jawline, I do!" You exclaimed. Quickly shoving another spoonful of cookie dough in your mouth, you rushed over to the sleigh and climbed in. "I've always wanted to ride in one of these things!"

Elijah:

Your morning routine was a simple one. Get up, smack your alarm 'till it shut up, put on your prosthetic, get dressed, take your medication, eat something remotely food-like, and rush out the door while braiding your hair. You did most of that, until you reached step five. There was a window in your kitchen which was where you kept your (prescription) drugs. The thing was right over your sink and it didn't have blinds, so you couldn't really ignore the view outside as you got yourself a glass of water.

You took one look at your lawn and died inside.

"Why me?" You groaned. Well, whining about it wasn't going to get you anywhere so you continued about your routine, snatching a granola bar in proxy of an actual breakfast to make up for your misfortune. You were definitely going to be late for work.

Throwing on a coat, you stumbled out the door - shovel in hand and ski strapped to your metal foot. In front of you, your deck and the stairs leading down from it had become a dangerous slope you would have to descend. You would have gone out the front door but - lucky you - that thing was entirely blocked by the squishy, cold, whiteness that now covered everything in sight. So many other people love snow. You and your prosthetic leg were not among them. You raised your eyes to the grey morning sky, glaring daggers into the lazy clouds.

"Jack Frost, when I find you, I am going to beat you to death and steal your wallet," You announced. You stuck your tongue out at the heavens just for good measure. Then, with a sigh, you shoved off your deck railing and half-walked, half- glided down the stairs and the side of your house to the gate. When you got there, the latch was frozen shut - golly gee shucks - and you would have to bust it open with your shovel. Oh joy!

You raised the snow shovel, but just as you were about to bring it down, the ice cracked and shattered as the gate was forced open. You shrieked and dropped the shovel, stumbling back only to trip and fall on your arse into the snow. The gate swung to reveal Elijah, who frowned down at you.

"What are you doing down there?" He wondered, raising a brow and dusting his hands off.

"What are you doing here?" You countered, pushing the hair out of your face. "Don't you live in the city?"

"Well, yes." He held out his hand and you took it, letting him pull you up. "I drove here," He answered simply.

You blinked. "Well, duh... But why?"

Elijah shrugged. "Well, I saw the snow and figured you had enough to do without the added task of digging yourself out of your driveway."

It took you a second to process that but when his words finally registered, your eyes flew wide.

"Wait, what?"

He just smiled and stepped out of your way. You shuffled yourself though the gate and Elijah took your hand wordlessly, guiding you out into your front yard. What you saw took your breath away. He'd really done it.

He'd come all the way out from the city, to shovel snow off your driveway. The two of you didn't know each other that well. Sure, you'd had a few pleasant conversations but not enough for you to count yourself his friend. He'd only asked about your leg once and you had answered but you didn't go into detail. You weren't about to unload your struggles on a stranger. You had never mentioned how difficult snow was for you. You had never even asked.

"I'll have it finished by the time you get back from work, but for now I managed to free your vehicle at least."

"Elijah, I-I don't know what to say," You breathed, your words turning to mist in the air.

He smiled. "You don't have to say anything."

Klaus:

You've been on forearm crutches for as long as you could remember, having been born with a genetic condition that rendered your balance questionable and your legs unable to support you. However, using a wheelchair never appealed to you much, because you're stubborn that way and anything anybody else can do, you can do better and that's a simple fact of life. Thus, stairs are difficult for you - they are the bane of your existence though you would never say that out loud for multiple reasons but one big one especially.

Because you know what place has a lot of stairs? The compound. You agree with Marcel in nicknaming that place the Abattoir or "slaughterhouse" because you're certain those stairs are going to kill you one day. Yet, despite his many offers to shift location to someplace without a built-in death trap, you refused to complain because then Klaus would feel guilty about it. You're completely aware of how much Klaus loves New Orleans and that house and you would never want him to feel obliged to leave on your account. So you kept your mouth shut. But, to his credit, he's frustratingly observant. So, on Christmas morning, he swept you off your feet and carried you down the stairs to the Christmas tree. The following morning, you left your room to discover a brand new fireman pole and a sort of dumbwaiter system running through all five floors - from the attic to the basement.

"Merry Christmas, love." A voice said from behind you.

With a gasp, you whirled around to see Klaus standing there with a faint, slightly nervous smile. He was probably worried you wouldn't like it, since you were always so determined to do things without help.

"It's a little late, but-" Now he was trying to fill the silence - gauge your reaction.

You just shook your head. "Oh, shut up." His expression fell, but only for a second because then you were throwing an arm around him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. You tried your best not to cry but soon you were bawling like a baby. "This is the best Christmas ever!"

Kol:

You had a lot of mixed feelings about the holidays. On one hand, they were amazing - with warm blankets, sparkling lights, and good food. But on the other hand, you often found yourself left out. Hearing loss and speech aphasia made for an isolating combination, and it was always the same old story, even around your own family. You would always be on the outside looking in. It was fine, really; you'd almost gotten used to it by now. At least, that was what you liked to tell yourself as you sat at a table with your family for a feast where everyone else could contribute to the conversation except you.

Only your mother had ever bothered to learn ASL, the rest of your family figured that since you could still talk, you should do so; despite it being painstakingly difficult and frustrating for you. Besides, it's not like anyone really wants to watch your hands while they're trying to eat. Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, and New Years - they were always the same. As you grew older, you even began to dread them just a little. You weren't just miserable. You were a ghost - completely unseen and unheard by your family during the time of year you were supposed to acknowledge each other the most.

When you moved out, you started skipping out on holiday dinners. Because somehow, being invisible and surrounded by family was so much more lonely then just being alone. It wasn't too much of a stretch; you got sick a lot so nobody even questioned it that first year. Then one year turned into two, and two into three, and three into five and seven and so on.

You had hoped they would notice after a while, had hoped that they'd at least miss your face. They never did.

You had hoped for an email or at least a text, none ever came.

You loved the holidays - loved what they meant. You just didn't love what they meant for you.

That was why you sat with a sketch pad on the floor in front of your Christmas tree, sketching well after midnight on yet another Christmas Eve while your heart shed tears of longing for the family that forgot you existed. Your hearing aids were off, left on a table in your bedroom where your boyfriend was out cold. It was chilly on the lower floor and the carpet was scratchy and salty tears dripped onto your paper, but you ignored all of that. You just wanted to draw the Christmas lights, because weren't they just so beautiful?

A muffled voice sounded from behind you. The words were to quiet to recognize but the tone sounded like a question - a very tired question. Kol was up.

You didn't turn to face him. Instead, you just tapped your ear and said: "N-no."

Footsteps. Then he was kneeling beside you. He tapped the corner of your drawing and said something else. It was a short statement, spoken softly. Probably a complement.

"Not-not, uh... Not-" You sniffed, wiping at more tears. "Not do-one. Not done yet-t."

The boy nodded and took your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His arm moved to rest around your shoulders and he leaned back against the couch. He pulled you along but you didn't mind.

And Kol didn't say anything. He just let you finish your drawing. It took you until about two thirty in the morning. When you finished, you were rather tired and you'd cried all the tears you had, so you tapped his arm. He stood and let go of your hand. You glanced up at him. The boy smiled and didn't speak a word.

He signed them instead. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart." You could see yourself cast in the warm, off-white glow of the lights reflected in his eyes. "I love you."

Your family may have forgotten about you, but perhaps you could learn to love the holidays again as long as you spent them with someone who saw you.

Stefan:

You had spent your whole life being ridiculed for the Ulnar Nerve Palsy that rendered your hands just short of useless. When they weren't locked up, they were trembling uncontrollably. Had you been born a witch then at least you could have made endless Dr. Strange jokes about it, but of course you weren't that lucky. You were only human. Perhaps a little less in the eyes of most, though you tried your best not to let their opinions hurt you.

Anyway, on Christmas morning when Stefan dragged you out of bed, you had to admit to being a little surprised. He hadn't slept over and as far as you were aware, he didn't have a key to your house.

You shielded your eyes from the lights in the hallway. Judging off the chatter from downstairs, it seemed the rest of your family was already up. "How did you get in here?" You demanded. He just smiled at you and grabbed your wrist instead of your hand.

"Your cousins let me in," He replied with a shrug.

"I hope they shot you."

"Oh they did." He nodded. "The little one caught me in the throat."

You snorted a laugh. Christmas Nerf wars were a tradition at your house, especially since you spent it with your aunt's family. She had three boys and they all loved Nerf guns.

"You guys ready to open presents?" Stefan shouted when the two of you reached the bottom of the stairs. A chorus of excited shouts, sounded from the living room.

You rolled your eyes but continued on. You would most likely have to ask for help or unwrap your presents with your feet. When you got to the living room and sat down, Stefan sat beside you with a pile of his won presents. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you yawned.

"Are we gonna start this party or what?" When you finally glanced up, you had to hold back a laugh. Everyone in your family, including Stefan, had put oven mitts over their hands - rendering them as useful as your own.

"Now we're gonna race!" Your youngest cousin said.

"Okay." You grinned and grabbed a present from under the tree with your feet. "Y'all are going down!"

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lisacatara-actress · 2 years

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Almost Lisa- Pt 2, “Almost Musician”

*I retain all rights to my photography and story, story details, biographical information, fashion designs, art work, and anything and everything I have posted which is my own creation*)

Just settled in to write today at another cafe, this time in Trilith Studios in Atlanta, GA (I’ll eventually get to how I got here). I like the owners, a humble and kind wife/husband team who make mean pastries (alas, I'm gluten-free. I'm part Italian. WHY GOD, WHY?! ). Recently, I asked if I could flood their tall, bare white walls with my art and photography. Today, I'm enjoying this collaboration, the coffee, the view, and the tiniest feeling of community. What better environment to continue penning my story?

“Failure is not the end of the world. Trip, fall, face plant… But throw up a jazz hand and carry-on! “

So... 9/11 changed many lives. While mine was spared (I went uptown to sign a work contract, missing breakfast in tower 2 that morning), my Broadway dreams ended. People were afraid to patron the theaters which suffered greatly for the lack of attendance (as did the Artists). As time progressed, top billed name actresses were cast to play roles once reserved for trained singer/ dancers. There was no room for a newbie like me. I had nowhere to live, no other friends in the city, no job security... I needed to figure out my next move, fast.

In a series of random and unrelated events, I was introduced to a producer in Hollywood, CA who encouraged me to jump coasts to try TV and film and gave me the name of what he felt was a reputable acting class to get started. At first, I laughed. I was a city girl. I loved fine and performing Arts. I needed culture! California was surfing and camping (so I thought). I didn't see myself fitting in. I also didn't see myself surviving a New York winter, homeless. So I made the difficult decision to drive cross country and rebuild my life in new, unknown territory. But first, a stop in Cleveland for a couple off nights to appease my parents. They knew nothing of what happened to me in NYC during the attacks. Only that I decided to shift focus. And they never asked.

I am 16 in the photo above, working my first job in Little Italy, Cleveland. My Grandparents were proud of this. They were proud and supportive of everything and everyone in the family. And they seemed to make every concert and special event I had (there were many), including my graduation from Eastman. Somehow these two stayed madly in love their entire marriage. They were truly the glue which kept our family together. Outside of our house, the times I heard my parents laugh and saw them smile most was at my grandparents house. Two of the Tarantino Brothers built their own homes, side-by-side, in Euclid, Ohio where they raised their children. Every Christmas, we’d enjoy a family dinner and homemade pastries, then the families would swap houses and repeat. It was magic. When my grandmother passed, my grandfather passed a year later of a broken heart. And my father was never quite the same.

My parents are both incredibly smart and gifted. My father is a talented Architect. Mom was a teacher (until she had me), then worked for a doctor at one of Cleveland's top medical facilities. Great people, compassionate. They never really “parented” me. They were supportive and showed up for the many things I did. But seldom asked questions. They didn't teach life stuff or share personal experiences. Never spoke to me about boys. Didn’t talk me in or out of my decisions. I kinda just did my thing. If I got it wrong, I got the scowl of disapproval and silence. I think they were overwhelmed (three kids). Likewise, I opted to never share anything negative or challenging with them (the environment I grew up in was negative enough). To this day, they know nothing about most of my struggles and challenges, I spared them. It is exceedingly challenging to go through life the way I have with no foundation of family and safety to “hold” me (likely why I'm writing about it all now). In order to stay healthy and thrive, I always knew I would need to leave the nest. With my father staring stoic in the driveway, I pulled the car out onto the street, waved, and began the three day trek to California. Dad watched the until the car disappeared from view.

________

Sidebar. I spend a lot of time in cafes, sipping Joe or noshing, head down, writing or editing. I don’t have people (or someone) to spend time with, thus I’ve always enjoyed opportunity to connect with strangers and share stories (I do this all the time, anywhere in the world. So if you see me, please say hello!). I have a lot of photography, poetry, scripts, and art now. I’ll tell you the story about how photography entered my life later. Anyways...

________

“Sometimes everything you want (everything which makes you happy) is on the other side of Fear”

If you've never been a brown woman traveling solo through the South of North America with Yankee plates, it'll certainly keep you on your toes. Interestingly, I've never had a problem dealing with others when traveling (not even in the Favela of Brazil). Most all dissonance I've received in my life was from colleagues and competitive “friends”. It's interesting to excel at communication with powerful decision makers at a very high level, but constantly be misunderstood by peers and those of lesser understanding and/or experience. Hollywood was about to teach me a few things regarding trust, friendships, opportunity. And a lot about myself.

In February 2005, I arrived in sunny California, mid-monsoon (exaggerating), struggling to find my way to The San Fernando Valley while unable to see ten inches in front of me. That year, several “Hollywood Hills” houses slid off their foundations, wrecked by flooding. The new environment and lack of connection to a brand new city and life might have intimidated me. But I was focused. Somehow I managed to hear about a background casting company for television and film and immediately got registered. Then called every day to remain employed as a background artist until I earned my Screen Actors Guild card, got an agent, and enrolled in acting classes. It felt like a proverbial foot in the door.

Suddenly, my life regained purpose. There was movement. I was in Hollywood, working consistently on TV and film sets, booking commercials & print work, and spokesperson gigs for companies and products (a forte which kept me busy). I was on the red carpets (at this time more often interviewing, not interviewed), and establishing myself with casting directors. My energy was endless. Every win encouraged and inspired me to keep moving, keep auditioning and interviewing, keep networking.

The resume was growing, but I was hardly “blending in”. When you're talented, intelligent and you look like THIS...

...it’s unbelievably challenging to succeed past the gatekeepers who expect favors in exchange for your progress. It was more than just the (sadly) common and expected casting couch, or the inappropriate producer/ AD/ director/ lead actor... in the way. I found I could do absolutely nothing and still be found “difficult”.

There were times on set I would be asked by the 1st AD or producer to be tucked into the back of a crowd so-as not to intimidate or distract a name talent on the show. One actress had me removed from set and asked I not be hired on her show again. I learned quickly that shrinking to spare the insecurities of others was not a forte of mine. So I committed effort to booking roles for myself. And I did.

It never occurred to me that I wasn't as deserving of opportunity as the celebrities I often worked with. I felt at home in those moments. But I did not welcome the ongoing assault of sexual objectification, manipulation and even blatant threats to derail my success simply for saying 'no” to decision-makers. I can affirm from the inside of the business that those “casting couches” and predatory behavior are real at all levels and departments in the industry. I can also confirm that saying “NO” makes everything more challenging. My career success was modest for it. But I take pride in knowing everything I've earned was done so by talent and professionalism. I had bounced back from 9/11, losing my first love (music), overcoming (brief) homelessness, and now established myself as an actress, working in Hollywood. Then I got the sign I was waiting for that I made the right choice and things were going to be alright. I booked something career-changing.

By 2007 I'd come close several times to booking major roles and recurring characters on TV shows. I was frustrated, but motivated by continued invitations to audition for the top casting directors. Then I got a good one! I landed a guest star on an NBC TV show alongside a few established name actors in a role which was expanded- just for me- based on the quality of my callback. That kind of trust makes your chest swell. It was validation. I earned it. It was a “Welcome Mat”. I arrived to set prepared for the week of filming and ready to assure producers they'd made the right choice.

The popular sitcom filmed all week in studio, then that Friday in front of a live audience (as a stage performer, I was in my element). We walked through rehearsals, marked things for camera and director, and got to know each other as cast. I was working primarily with #1 on the call sheet, a brilliant physical actor who was unexpectedly supportive of me as an emerging talent. He offered a solid piece of professional advice I've carried with me ever since: “Own The Room”.

"Some people show off their beauty because they want the world to see it. Others hide their beauty because they want the world to see something else"

That Thursday the execs rolled through to watch our dress rehearsal. Afterward I was pulled aside with accolades and a welcome I'd thought was the normal Hollywood deal. At their suggestion, I made plans to “discuss my future” with the casting director that following Monday. That night, when I returned to my dressing room, there was a hand-written note slid under my door with one word on it: “Dinner?”. Instant panic. Am I going to lose my job if I say “No”? What do I do? I don't want to create problems with anyone. I quietly grabbed my things and went home.

The next day was the live audience taping. I was a little on edge wondering where the note came from (I had my suspicions), but chose to behave as if I never received it. The show was a success, we took our bows, I thanked the director and cast and went home on a performance high. That Monday I kept my appointment with casting who offered a short list of larger agents to interview with. This was- I thought- a very good sign. So I interviewed with the agencies, gave it week to consider, then selected who I felt was the best match. When I called to speak with the head of the agency she apologetically explained that the WGA (Writers Guild) was about to strike and that we would have to reconvene in a few months. Well, a few months turned into 5, then 6, my calls and emails to the casting agent suddenly went un-responded to. I was forgotten and- now- unrepresented. The strike changed the career trajectory for so many like me. After how hard I fought and studied to make it this far, I was completely deflated for the second time in my life. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

I was ALMOST a Success.

(to be continued...)

(PS If you like what you're reading, I welcome contributions to the efforts via Venmo @LTarantinoDesigns)

#hollywood #art #artist #Lisa Catara #film #movies #celebrities #fame #women in film #photography #photographer #actress #music #musician #opera #broadway

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reverse-moon · 2 years

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So uh

I woke up crying this morning

And drew what I would assume falls under the category of "vent comic/vent art"

This is 100% going to be upsetting.

And normally I'd post this to my vent blog, but if for some reason this blows up big, I'd rather it not be on the blog of my darkest moments written for the world to see.

Under the Read More will be the comic and explanation.

CW for under cut: Trauma talk, sexual assault talk, death, mental abuse, religious trauma, and suicidal thoughts.

Please DON'T read if you aren't going to be able to handle. Don't just click to see the art.

I'm gonna preface this with I am a mental abuse victim (I have no viable option of escape currently but I'm still looking) who also suffers normal anxiety. Early in Summer of 2022, I lost my emotional support animal, who was one of the only things keeping me alive (depressing, I know).

For the first 20 years of my life (I'm 21 during the year of 2022, turning 22 in Jan 2023), my narcissistic father ruined my life, along side bullies. I cannot remember my elementary school years really. I have vague good moments, but I can't remember anything else. I vaguely remember middle school, but only because it was an arts middle school, so I had a lot of fun in the non-academic classes and I met my #1 favourite teacher there. High school, I hardly remember my freshman year and I wish I could forget the others because of the trauma I had. I graduated on my 20th birthday, in a house that wasn't my family's that we got kicked out of because my dad.

He lost his job because of a foot injury that required 2 surgeries. He broke his foot and ultimately lost workman's comp for it since they deemed it to be purely the fact that he had a high arch. He, for around 5 years now, claimed (and is still claiming) that he looked for a job. He was not. He was to high and mighty to go get a job a Burger King or Kwik Trip. These past 2 years, he's been taking care of his mom (88 or something, one lung, on oxygen and almost literally just skin and bones). For a while, he was alone with her, so it was a little more understandable why he wasn't looking.

My mom and I went to Arizona because my other Nana was there. We helped out. My own step-grandpa (my mom's stepdad) sexually assaulted me. My nana, upon hearing this, confronted him and came back saying "well he wasn't drunk, so..." I was told to go with her and my mom out everywhere.

I would have been fine with this if it didn't include church. My dad, when I was like 7, made my cry in front of LDS missionaries because I didn't have a 'good enough reason" to be baptized into the church. Despite saying that's where I felt safe and where I felt the spirit (whatever spirit I felt left me alone after that). I refused to go to any church events if I could help it. (One Christmas, I felt sick, so I said I wasn't going to church and my dad threatened to give my Christmas presents away if I didn't go. Because I felt like I was going to throw up.)

I went once, stayed in flight/freeze mode the whole time, even getting to the point of asking my brother to look up things on a phone call to try and figure out the fucking wifi password so I could connect to my rocks. Needless to say, I didn't calm from my panic until about an hour after getting home. The next week, I said I wouldn't go, and I'd stay hidden in the bedroom. My nana told me (after a while of explaining why I wouldn't go) "if something happens, it's your fault then."

My mental state deteriorated harshly. I was using dating apps to get out of the house, hoping I'd find a rescue. Turns out one I thought was a rescue was just a different cage. He love bombed me (using presents, affection and other forms of romantic language to make you stay and gain control), and when I need space to think, bombarded my mom and I with calls. It wasn't pretty.

My mom told me after I blocked him on my things that he was also trying to tell her how to talk to me (big red flag, bitch). I won't say much else.

My cat passed away after that. He fought 1 full day for staying alive in pain, unable to breath and move. We took him to a vet to put him down. With the first sedative, he was gone. He didn't even have any bodily fluids to get out. I was broken.

Through this time, I had a few friends helping me. Waba, Bennie, Ami, Cat... But it still felt like I shouldn't be alive. Because all I did was bother and drop bombs of emotions on people.

I wrote a fic, sometime around this time, about wanting to jump and drown in a lake, but being talked out of it. I used the Sanders Sides characters Patton and Janus to represent me and Ami - my saving grace that night.

Then, in August 2022, I moved to Boston. Well, close to Boston, anyway. I'm living with my deadbeat narcissist father, my mom, and my dad's mom.

It's torture. I'm practically trapped inside because my nana worries so much, I have no friends locally that I haven't met online through Bumble (and that is still a meager 1 person who has to come from Salem to my place), I can't seem to get a job for many reasons. The biggest and worst thing is I can't own a pet because we can't afford it. And I really need a service dog, if I'm honest.

I feel lost, broken, numb, alone, among other even more depressing thoughts. I can't count how many times I've wanted the "courage" to grab a knife and end it all.

Over all? I just don't see the point. Unless you have a claim to fame, money, or a chance higher than the international average at either - you basically don't matter to society other than to be a stepping stone for those who do. And your chances decrease about 50% if you aren't what society wants. A queer autistic agender person who has a rather long list of mental disorders and an even longer list of possible physical issues? If I can get to a point where I can even remember to stream on my schedule for a week, I'd be lucky. And that's when I have a place to stream.

I woke up in tears because the one thing in my life that really helped me find a light died and I can't even go visit his grave because he's buried somewhere in the Arizonan desert.

I can't take it.

I just. Can't. Do things. Anymore.

I'm not okay and I can't find the strength to change that.

#long post #vent #vent art #mental health #sorry

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

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Countdown to Love - (2/4)

Summary: Nesta is alone for the holidays, and she's totally fine with that... right? When she attends a speed dating event, she tells herself it's just to meet someone she can grab a coffee with over the break. What she gets instead is a Christmas experience unlike any other.

Part of @acotargiftexchange for @saphie3243

Part I ⟡ Holiday Masterlist ⟡ Read on AO3

Monday, December 20. 10:00 am.

One week.

Nesta had been doing the advent challange with Cassian for one full week.

The most absurd, reckless, liberating week she’d ever known.

Nesta had never felt happier, though she pretended to loathe every second of it.

When she’d met Cassian the day after the public smut reading, he’d decided to get vengeance by having Nesta meet him in a shopping center. Her challenge: to stand next to a sign that read free hugs for a whole hour without denying a single person.

Not nearly as embarrassing as the smut, in her opinion, but challenging in its own right. She was an introvert in every way that counted. The idea of hugging random strangers for an entire hour would certainly have been unwelcome, but she rose to the challenge. And? Was pleasantly surprised.

For the most part, the people who took up her offer were sweet and lovely—some admitting that the holiday period was difficult for them, and that her hug, the kindness she offered, made it feel just a little more sufferable.

There was also a surprisingly lack of creepy men—but she supposed that had something to do with the personal trainer who stood at her side, arms crossed with an expression that promised violence towards anyone who decided to take advantage of Nesta’s vulnerable state.

Just before the end of the hour, Cassian had stepped in front of her, smile soft and arms wide. The challenge was to not deny a single person, so Nesta let him pull her into his bulking figure, trying her best to ignore how warm, how solid, his body felt against hers.

Seeing as they were already at a shopping center, Nesta could think of no challenge more perfect than insisting that Cassian accompany her to get mani-pedis. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised, but he flourished at the salon—chatting animatedly with the beauticians that were making an extra fuss of the handsome, unashamed man in their shop. She’d planned on picking his colors for him, but when he got pouty lipped at the sight of a ruby-red polish, she gave in.

Yesterday, he’d taken her ice skating. Nesta had done a good job of pretending she was nervous when he’d told her—fretting over how she might fall, how she hadn’t dressed properly for it. She’d even stumbled as he’d tried to help her onto the ice, slipping into him so he caught her arm.

The way he’d held her had been so gentle, so encouraging, she almost felt guilty. For a moment, she was tempted to keep the ruse going just to keep his hands on her body, to keep him looking at her in a way that was so tender she felt tempted to throw open the steel doors of her heart and reveal her entire self to him.

That feeling had been so intimidating that she’d effortlessly spun out of his grip, gliding backwards on one leg, the other poised in the air. It had been so long, she’d forgotten what it felt like to skate—the way the air rushed around her as she’d spun, lithe and graceful, had made her feel like she was floating.

Cassian had been staring at her, mouth open and gaping.

She’d smirked. “Did I forget to mention? I was a collegiate skater freshman year.”

They’d made a good match, since apparently Cassian had been a dedicated hockey player since childhood. After hours of showing off to one another, laughing and dancing in their effortless push and pull, Nesta had nearly forgotten she still needed to think of a challange for him.

She’d unexpectedly had fun, and thus sought no vengeance for the day’s activity. So she’d skated over to him, looked into those bright hazel eyes, and said, “tell me what you’re thinking—right this very moment. That’s your challenge today.”

He’d huffed a laugh. Cassian might be perceptive, but Nesta was just as good at reading people. And she could tell that for all his warm-hearted charisma, he was someone who had trouble expressing himself.

“I was thinking—” he’d surveyed her, as though searching for words, and something about the appraisal made her feel suddenly nervous. “I was thinking that you’re beautiful, Nesta.”

She’d felt like she couldn’t breathe, and she’d hated it. Hated that she hadn’t moved as he leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “the moment I saw you in that cafe, you were so beautiful it nearly took me to my knees. And I haven’t stopped feeling that way since.”

His breath had fanned against her skin, warm against the cool winter air, and she had been powerless to the shiver that shuddered through her body in response. She’d felt him smile, and had shut her eyes, clenched her teeth, silently counted to ten in an attempt to regain control of her body’s reaction.

Cassian was making her feel—amazing. The butterflies in her stomach, the jumping pulse in her neck, the blush rising on her cheeks. It was exhilarating and she loathed it.

Especially as Cassian had leaned in closer, his nose grazing the skin of her neck.

Such a subtle touch, yet she’d gasped as if he’d burned her. His body was so close she’d been able to smell his cologne, had felt horrified by her urge to lean forward and bury her nose into his neck, inhale his scent with abandon.

Nesta had felt like she was drowning as he stood close yet not close enough, a bone dangled before a starved dog. He was waiting for her to give him permission, and every rational thought had felt overwhelmed, overriden by him. She’d wanted to give in so desperately—which was why she’d scrambled back as though he’d struck her.

His eyes had been wide with surprise, especially as he’d marked the panic that was undoubtedly on her face. She’d felt the absence of him as though the ice had broken beneath her feet and dragged her under the freezing current.

“Nesta—”

She’d already turned and started skating away, ignoring the sound of his blades trailing after her. Nesta hadn’t let herself turn around, had shucked off her skates the minute she was on solid ground and fled. Fled like the damn coward she is.

Cassian had given up his chase at some point, because she returned to her dorm alone, no sign of any overly bulky men. Her phone had buzzed later that night with a text from him, no mention of what happened, just an address and a time for the next day.

She’d agonized all morning about whether or not to go, had eventually worked up the courage and shoved herself out of her room and ordered an uber before she could chicken out.

When she arrived at a gym, she had a slight inclination as to what Cassian had planned that day.

Nesta allowed herself only one long breath before she entered. She found him in a boxing ring, throwing a series of brutal, precise punches into the bag dangled before him.

He was shirtless, and ripped. Beautiful. It required all of her self control not to openly gawk, even then she was certain she’d done a poor job of it. It’d been obvious he was well built from his stature, but of all the times she’d mentally undressed him she’d never given him as much credit as he was due.

His skin gleamed in sweat, his broad, muscled chest rising and falling with his breath. She couldn’t help but wonder if his panting would sound similar as he bent over her—

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” she said, inwardly wincing when her voice was not nearly so casual as she’d hoped.

Here she’d come prepared to deal with the wake of her cowardice and instead she’d been completely blindsided by the sight of him. Even now, as he turned to look at her, she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the corded muscles of his stomach.

He cleared his throat and her eyes flickered to his. She’d expected he’d be smug to have caught her staring, but for the first time since knowing him there was something reserved in his expression. Guarded.

Nesta swallowed thickly, in as much of an attempt to quell the incessant thoughts of what his body would feel against hers, as it was in nervousness at the idea that she might have hurt his feelings yesterday.

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t trust anything that might come out of her mouth. So she just held his gaze, hoping he could see the apology in her eyes, knowing he deserved a spoken one and feeling horrid for not being able to provide it.

Cassian searched her eyes and nodded as though he could see the emotion she was trying to convey to him. A muscle in his jaw loosened, and then he was offering her an easy grin. “Ready, sweetheart?”

No. Not if it meant getting closer to his sweaty, shirtless form. Not as her traitorous eyes crept downward, towards the vee of muscles that sloped beneath the waist of his pants. Her breathing was already shallow and she’d hardly done anything at all.

“I’m guessing my challenge is letting you train me?” she asked, finally, forcing the words out like knives scraping against her throat.

“For one full hour.” He smirked. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Being so close to Cassian felt obscene, and after the lingering tension from yesterday she felt scalded from where he touched her as he guided her through the exercises and footwork. He was a patient instructor, clear in his direction, and constructive when correcting mistakes. She’d be impressed if she didn’t feel like she was melting—both from the workout, which she was hardly cut out for, and his proximity.

He was talking her through the proper squatting technique when his watch buzzed. He grinned, patting her on the back. “That’s one hour. Good job Nesta.”

From the way such simple maneuvers had utterly wrecked her, it didn’t feel like she did a good job. She placed her hands on her knees, still trying to catch her breath. “No wonder you look the way you do.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He seemed to puff his chest out at the praise, eyes heated as he asked, “and how do I look?”

She gestured from his ridiculously corded abs to the biceps that were around the same size of her thigh. “Like you could beat a bear in an arm wrestling match.” He snorted at the imagery and she smiled. “Right. Well, if you’re going to show off today than I might as well return the favor.”

Cassian quirked a brow. “It’ll have to wait. I’m technically on the clock.” He grinned. “I had you booked as a client.”

“Do I have to pay you?”

“First session is free,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“And is a session typically one hour?”

“It’s usually two.”

She smirked. “Good—then take me into one of those barre rooms,” she said, pointing to the sign that advertised barre classes three times a week.

Cassian frowned. “I don’t teach barre.” At her long look he sighed. “Don’t tell me—you teach barre?”

Nesta only grinned, not wanting to reveal it yet as Cassian led her to the back. She surveyed the room as they entered, looking at the barre that ran along the mirrored far wall. Nesta sought the speaker so that she could connect her phone.

When she returned to Cassian, who stood dumbfounded in the center of the room, music flooded the space around them.

“What kind of workout song is this?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

“A waltz,” she said with a laugh, taking his hands. He was still shirtless, which was perhaps a mistake, but there was no going back now. “I don’t know a thing about barre, but I knew it would be a big enough room for ballroom dancing.”

He groaned. “That’s so much worse than barre.”

“You chickening out?” she challenged.

“Never. Go ahead, sweetheart. Teach me how to waltz so I can fulfill your prince charming fantasies.”

She shook her head, starting to lead him through the dance. Cassian might not be a trained dancer, couldn’t let the rhythym guide him as gracefully as it did Nesta, but he was athletic and agile. Those two things, compared with his sharp eyes studying her footwork and how she moved, meant he picked it up quickly.

And he was strong. So absurdly strong that he could dip and spin and lift her as though she weighed nothing at all.

It was incredible having a partner like him, so seemingly in tune to her every breath, her every step. He might not have moved to the music instinctively, but he moved to her, like the beat of her heart was his own personal time count. His hands at her waist tightened, she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Cassian smiled. For a moment she was so lost in the sight of it, she forgot everything else—his shirtlessness, the tension, the fact that they were in a gym and not an elegant ballroom. None of it mattered, because in that moment it was just her and Cassian, blooming and burning bright as the dawn. She couldn’t help smiling back at him.

And then his expression shifted to something like awe. He leaned forward, mouth at her temple. “I love it when you look at me like that.”

Nesta’s breath caught. “Like what?”

“Like you’re surprised by how happy you are—how happy I make you. It makes me feel like I did something incredible.”

Maybe it was the heat crackling between them, but something about his honesty—the vulnerability in it—thawed enough of the frost in her chest that she felt she could reveal this one thing to him. “I don’t smile very much.”

“I’ve noticed,” he breathed.

“You—” she stopped, reticent, but after yesterday she owed this vulnerability to him. “You make me want to smile. The list of people who’ve managed that is very small.”

His next breath was a shuddering sound, as though he’d had to remind himself to breathe.

“I live for that smile,” he said, softly. “Moment to moment, I’m thinking about what I can do to earn it again.”

What should she do with a confession like that? Her head was spinning, and it had nothing to do with the way he was still twirling her around the empty room. Cassian was the one shirtless, he was the one putting his heart on his sleeves (or lack thereof). Yet, it was Nesta who felt exposed, who was struggling against the instinct to cover herself up so that no one could see.

She wanted to say something—anything. To speak to this warmth in her chest, the deep, soft glowing ember that had sparked low and lovely the second those hazel eyes met hers. He made her happy. Surely, she could admit that much?

Every word she tried to summon died in her throat. And then Cassian dipped her, strong arms caressing her back while he leaned his body over hers. They were so close that when timed correctly, the rise of her chest brushed against his. She could feel the pant of his breath against her lips.

Nesta couldn’t bring herself to speak. But as she reached a hand up to caress his lightly stubbled face, she thought she could at least do this. The physical side of a relationship—that always came easier to her. And he’d said it himself, that’s where he dominated as well.

Cassian met her halfway, surging forward until their mouths melded together in a searing, opened mouth kiss. She was embarrassed to admit she whimpered at the gratification of it—that she’d been dying to taste him for days now, and it was everything she’d longed for. He tasted like snow-kissed wind and crackling embers.

His arms around her tightened, bracketing her body against his so firmly she could feel his every stiff, trembling muscle. Trembling from what she wasn’t certain—restraint, perhaps? Her own restraint was a distant memory.

Holding her parallel to the floor with one arm, the other began trailing along her side until it lodged against her hip, encouraging it to slant against his own as his hand trailed lower, catching her leg to help it wrap around his waist.

And then he was holding her by the ass, hauling her against the pull of gravity so that she was settled over him, both legs wrapped around his torso.

He grinned. “Much better.” Then he was walking them backwards until her back was to a wall, pinned completely by Cassian’s body.

Over his shoulder, she could see herself in the mirror, legs wrapped around the rippling muscles of his lower back. His kissing had turned from something tender, almost devout, to a desperate, all-consuming hunger. She moaned against the eager sweep of his tongue, and that seemed to unleash something in him.

He grunted, fingers sinking into her braid to angle her face for better access. Her hands roamed his bare chest, feeling the heat of his damp skin, cursing that she was so far gone with him that she didn’t even care about the sweat, didn’t care that someone could walk in at any moment.

With him she felt unhinged—reckless. She was half ready to tear his shorts down and let him have her right there against the wall. The way his hands had slipped under her shirt, fondling her breasts through her sports bra, she thought he might be similarly inclined.

But then his watch started beeping again, and he pulled away with a strangled groan.

Nesta watched his throat bob as he swallowed, trying to contain the breathing that was far heavier than it’d been during any of their actual exercising. Still holding her against the wall, his hands retreated from under her shirt, and he slid them through his mussed hair as though it would do anything to make him look more composed.

“I have to go back to work,” he said regretfully. “I have an actual client now. And I might lose my job if they find me fucking you back here.”

She nodded numbly, scrambling to get back to her feet, delayed mortification flooding through her with every increasing second she wasn’t melded to his body. Gods, what was she doing? Yesterday she practically fled at the idea of getting close to him, but the magnetism between them was beginning to feel indomitable.

Nesta glanced at herself in the mirror, trying to ignore the flush that colored her from cheeks to chest as she began fixing her hair as though his hands had never been there. She could see Cassian watching her, so intently, through the mirror, perhaps waiting for her to speak to what had just occurred between them.

She turned to meet his eyes and fixed him with a cool smile, as though nothing had happened at all. “See you tomorrow, Cassian.”

His face remained unchanged, but Nesta almost swore she saw a glimmer of disappointment behind those deep hazel eyes. “See ya, sweetheart.”

⟡⟡⟡

Taglist: Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

@littleloric @that-little-red-head @angelic-voice-1997 @c-e-d-dreamer

#Countdown to Love #acotar gift exchange 2021 #Nessian #Nessian fic #Nesta x Cassian #Nessian fluff #holiday fluff #nesta archeron #Cassian #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #sjm fic

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

Text

By Your Doorstep (Part 9)

Summary: The reader and Tessa spend their first Christmas with the Winchesters and their friends, resulting in an eventful night...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Please enjoy this final part! I loved writing this one and exploring everything this series had to offer!

_________

Reader’s POV

Christmas Night

“Hello ladies,” said Dean, popping his head out from the hall and into the room Tessa was staying in. “Mind if I steal your sister?”

“Go for it,” she said, jumping up from bed and rushing over to her suitcase. She pulled out a box and held it out. “I thought I left it at home but Y/N found it in the hall. It’s your other present.”

“The zip up was very nice of you already,” he said. He tore off the paper and you smirked from bed, Dean making a face as he looked at the box.

“It’s a mug. I made it in art class,” she said. He opened the package and went wide eyed, staring at her as he pulled it out.

“Tessa, this is really good,” he said, smiling at the little D.W. she’d painted on the side. “You made this?”

“Yeah. I’m good at ceramics,” she said with a shrug. “If you don’t like it that’s okay.”

“I have a new favorite mug,” he said, giving her a hug. “I can drink out of it, right?”

“Yeah. It’s fine for using and dishwasher, all that,” she said.

“Well I for one am glad you are getting your minor in art next year,” he said.

“Really?”

“School’s important but you gotta have some fun,” he said. “This is one of the best presents I’ve ever gotten.”

“I made everybody one,” she said with a shrug. “I gotta give Sam his still.”

“I think he’s out with Eileen and a few other people in the hot tub.”

“I was gonna go hang out with Jack, maybe we’ll head out there,” she said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Make smart choices,” he teased as she walked out. You stood up from bed and walked out to the hall, wrapping your arms around his waist. “She loves me.”

“Yes she does,” you said, a big smile on his face. “You like that, huh?”

“Yes, I do. Besides, I gotta get her on board if I want you,” he said. “How am I doing so far?”

“Oh so you’re curious if I love you,” you said.

“More than you could possibly understand,” he said. You smiled and stood up on your tip toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“Dean. I love you.”

“Good because I love you,” he said.

“That’s very good,” you said. He gave you a kiss, resting his hands along your hips.

“Wanna take a walk with me?” he asked. You nodded and let him take your hand, following him downstairs and into the foyer where you dressed in your coats and boats, hats and scarves. You walked out the front with him and down the driveway a ways until you were on the private road up there, twinkle lights adorned in the trees.

“This really is beautiful up here, Dean,” you said, your gloved hands laced together.

“It is. Never really thought this would ever be my life growing up,” he said.

“We had holidays like this when we were younger,” you said. “It’s not really about the presents or the lights at the end of the day though.”

“No, it’s definitely not,” he said. “I know we only got here yesterday but are you enjoying it so far?”

“More than. I don’t dread these things anymore. I don’t dread life anymore.”

“Can I ask what your plans are for once Tessa goes to school next year? I know she’ll be living at home but she’s gonna be out and about more often,” he said.

“I don’t really know,” you said. “What about you?”

“Sammy’s interested in the place two doors down across the street. He might put an offer in,” said Dean.

“What ya asking Dean?”

“If you asked me six months ago if I ever thought I’d love someone, I’d have said no that wasn’t for me. But then I met you and things changed. I’ve never really asked if you’re a marriage kind of gal I guess.”

“If I loved him I would marry him. I’d have a family of our own with him too,” you said. Dean nodded and you bumped his shoulder. “Death is the price we pay for living. But I think what I’ve learned these past six months is that caring and loving someone is worth the pain at the end of the day. The pain subsides and it’s still there but it doesn’t destroy you anymore. So yeah, I’m definitely open to marriage and kids and the dog with the white picket fence thing.”

“My fence is brown,” he chuckled.

“I can look past that detail,” you said. “Would you ever consider marriage?”

“Yes. I absolutely would,” he said. You smiled and he squeezed your hand. “You think I’m gonna like...propose or something now?”

“I think I love you and anything else, whenever or if ever that may be, it would just be a cherry on top,” you said. “I don’t need a ring or to be Mrs. Winchester to tell me how I feel.”

“I figured as much. Safer to ask though,” he said. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held out a small wrapped box to you. “Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

You dropped his hand so you could unwrap it, finding a black box inside. You took off the lid and smiled, looking back over to Dean.

“You like it?” he asked shyly, blush appearing on his cheeks. “Tessa helped me pick it out.”

“Dean are you proposing?” you asked. He cocked his head and you turned the empty ring back towards him, his face falling.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” he said, covering his face. “I never put it back in the box. It’s at home. Oh my God I’m so dumb.”

“Dean,” you smiled, tilting your head and wrapping your arms around him. “Is there something you’d like to ask me?”

“It would make this idiot very happy if you decided to marry him,” he said with a smile.

“M’kay,” you said, pulling him down for a deep kiss. “That’s a yes by the way.”

“Even if I’m an idiot?”

“Told you I don’t need a ring, Winchester,” you said. “Just need you...Mr. & Mrs. Winchester has a nice ring to it though.”

“Technically it’s Dr. and…” he trialed off as you kissed him again. “God I love you.”

“I love you,” you said, throwing your arms over his shoulders. He tripped and fell back in the snow, laughing as you went with him. “Fuck I love the shit out of you.”

“I second that,” he said, rolling you to your back and kissing you. “Your sister is a hard nut to crack you know.”

“Did you ask her about this?”

“She’s very protective of big sis...but she said some very sweet things to me,” he said.

“She’s a sucker for you guys,” you said. “But she’s not the only one.”

You rolled over and meant to put him on his back but you ended up shifting and rolling down the hill with him, landing in a big pile of snow. You couldn’t see him at first but he was giggling like a kid and it was just about the best sound you’d ever heard in your life.

“I love you,” you said as you sat up. He propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. You jumped on top of him and rolled around in the snow, throwing snowballs and playing until both your jeans were soaked through and the cold was getting to be a bit much.

“Hey. You want to warm up with me in the shower?” he said.

“Absolutely,” you said. You walked back up the hill with him, picking up the box from the road. He threw his arm over your shoulders and tugged you close into his side. “Maybe we can even have a little fun in that jacuzzi tub.”

“That’s my girl,” he chuckled.

“That’s my boy,” you said, taking off your hat and pulling it over his head.

“I can get used to that.” He took off your hat and his baseball cap, putting the cap on you and tugging your hat back on.

“You’re never getting that blue Henley back by the way,” you said.

“You’re never getting your black hoodie back,” he said. You stopped and he pushed his hat down over your face.

“Dork,” you said, pushing it up and wrapping an arm around his waist. You walked up the road, chilly when you walked back inside. You took off your coat and boots, tossing everything on the rack.

You caught Sam and Tessa peeking their heads down the hall, both of them in their bathing suits. They stared at you and Dean, both dripping water.

“Yes we’re engaged,” you said.

“Yes!” said Tessa, Sam giving her a high five.

“Finally,” said Sam.

“Don’t you two have people to go make out with in the hot tub?” said Dean.

“Gah, like I’d do that in front of him,” said Tessa.

“I was having a perfectly good time with Eileen until you and Jack-“

“Goodnight guys,” you said.

“They got engaged!” shouted Sam, different parts of the house shouting back. Dean pulled you up the staircase and down to your room, locking the door behind you.

“Hi,” you grinned, kissing his nose.

“Hi. Wanna warm up?”

“After you, sweetheart.”

Three Months Later

“I’m beat,” said Dean, arm slung over your shoulders as the two of you walked up the street towards your house. You’d spent the day helping Sam and Eileen move into Sam’s new house just down the road, sticking around to unpack dishes and boxes long after everyone else had gone home.

“Our boy is all grown up,” you teased, Dean leaning against you. “Happy Sammy’s so close by?”

“Yup,” he said with a smile. “I think us older siblings did an alright job.”

“We still have to get Tessa through college,” you said.

“She’ll be fine. She wants to major in medicine sciences. I may or may not be able to help her out there some,” he said.

“Nerd,” you said, getting a smack on the ass from him. “Boy.”

“Girl,” he said, smirking and kissing your cheek. “It’s not the easiest thing in the world, I know, but she’s smart. We can all help her out. Except her art minor homework. I have no clue on that,” he said.

“First semester will probably be the roughest.”

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “What I am worried about it the fact she’s making us dinner tonight.”

“Ten bucks says it’s box mac and cheese.”

“Oh she informed me that it would be epic. I have high expectations,” he said.

“Hm, that must clearly be a good sign,” you said, nodding to your front porch where a very burnt tray of something sat on the step.

“Is it too late for takeout?” he chuckled.

“Let’s hope not,” you said, climbing up the steps. “We’re home!”

“How’d it go? We saw the...wait...it smells shockingly good in here,” said Dean, taking off his coat.

“I’m a better chef than you two give me credit for,” she said from the kitchen, humming as she worked over the stove. “I burnt the biscuits but everything else is nearly done.”

“If it tastes as good as it smells we should have you cook for us more often,” you said.

“Laugh it up,” she said. Dean pulled you upstairs and you washed off the sweat of working all day, changing into something relaxing in time to walk downstairs and spot Tessa setting plates down at the table.

“Oh. Fancy,” you said, Dean pulling out your seat for you. You sat and he took his own, Tessa humming as she pulled out a bottle of wine from the fridge and sat it down on the table. “Alright. What are you up to? This is way too nice.”

“Nothing. I knew you guys would be tired and you guys always make me dinner and stuff,” she said.

“Mhm,” you hummed, Dean smirking up at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

“This what I get for being nice. I’m going over Jack’s,” she said.

“Make smart choices kiddo,” said Dean with a wink. She groaned and messed up his hair before she took off, Toast trotting after. “Take my car if you want, Tess.”

“Thank you!” she called back, ducking out the door after a moment.

“Well this was very nice of her,” you said. You cut into your chicken and paused, showing it to Dean and giggling.

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll show her how to use a meat thermometer, make sure the food is actually cooked,” he chuckled, picking up the plates and scraping the food in the trash.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you said, picking up the bottle of wine.

“Yes it is. What are you thinking?” he asked. “Taco Saturday?”

“I want a big ass burrito,” you said. “With extra cheese. And nachos.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, washing up his hands at the sink. “Wine and Mexican food. Perfect combo if I do say so myself.”

Three Months Later

“You got me a car!” said Tessa, hopping up and down when she opened the front door. She ran over to it and pulled off the bow, sliding in behind the wheel.

“You were worried she wouldn’t like a used one,” chuckled Dean in your ear.

“I was not,” you said, slapping his chest, Toast running out past you. You watched Sam and Eileen come out of their house a few down, Sam staring over in your direction. “We’ll meet you there!”

He waved and they climbed in, driving past with a honk as Tessa squealed.

“Alright, alright,” said Dean. “We got a graduation to get to, ladies.”

“Cheers,” said Dean, laying back on the lounger on the balcony, toasting his glass to yours. You stretched out and rolled over closer to him, kissing him gently. “You’ve officially survived the high school phase.”

“Why do I feel like the college phase is harder,” you laughed.

“She’s already got the college boyfriend down,” he said.

“Yeah but Jack is Jack. He’s sweet. She’s the one I worry about.”

“You’ll always worry,” he said, his arm hanging loosely over your shoulders. “Kids sound like they’re having fun down there.”

“She’s happy. It’s all I could ever ask for.”

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“I’m home,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. You hugged his waist, Dean shutting his eyes with a smile. “You want to get married next summer?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said.

“Come on. You gotta have some opinions on this,” you said.

“I kinda like the idea of a spring wedding. Maybe May or something. I wouldn’t mind honeymooning somewhere on a beach,” he said.

“That sounds great,” you said, his fingers dancing along your arm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Shoot.”

“I almost asked my dad if I could meet you once you know. The boy from the mail room. You seemed...I don’t know, like a really good person.”

“Did I meet expectations?” he asked.

“Blew right past them,” you said, getting a kiss on the temple. “You happy?”

“I got my girl. I got my brother. Got Tessa and Eileen and my friends and Toast and this little baby, Miracle,” he said, picking up the sleeping puppy beside him. “I have never been so happy in my life.”

“Good,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Want to go see if there’s any graduation cake left? Bet it’d go good with this bourbon.”

“God I love you,” he chuckled as he kissed you. “So fucking much.”

“Me too, Dean. Me too.”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #winchester #dean spn #doctor!dean x reader

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

You Appear On Knowing Bros Together ~ Park Jimin

Your eyes widened as you took your first glimpse of the school set, squeezing tightly onto Jimin’s hand in excitement. He let go of a loud chuckle at your thrill, tightening his own grip against your hand.

“Calm down,” he laughed, pulling gently against your tie. “You’re going to end up scaring everyone in that classroom by the end of the day unless you just take a moment to breathe.”

As soon as Jimin mentioned that you’d been invited to go on Knowing Bros together, you snapped his hand off. It was one of the few programmes you watched every week without fail, you were convinced you’d managed to make your way through every episode at least twice.

Throughout the whole journey to the set, you’d barely been able to sit still. You’d watched and admired the programme for so long, and now your chance to finally be on the show had presented it, fulfilling one of your biggest dreams.

Several apologies came from Jimin as he led you down to the corridor on the other side of the classroom. Most of the staff probably thought you were crazy for being as excited as you were, but you were metaphorically on the edge of your seat to get in the classroom and start shooting.

“We’re ready when you are,” one of the producers called out as the cameras started rolling.

Jimin nodded back at them, “we’ll go now before she loses her mind.”

You took a step back as Jimin took the handle of the door and pushed it across, hearing a chorus of cheers greet the two of you as you stepped in.

Despite your thrill, you tried your hardest to keep yourself as calm as possible, only smiling and bowing in the direction of the seven men who looked back at you. Jimin looked back and smirked across at you as you hid behind his figure.

“I’m Jimin,” he smiled, waving briefly, “and I come from the school of my girlfriend hasn’t shut up about being here all week.”

“And I’m Y/N, and I come from the school of the girlfriend who can’t believe she’s actually here.”

Hodong applauded loudly, the first to see the shine in your eye that was full of excitement. You smiled shyly across at him, struggling to believe that the same Hodong who you’d spent hours watching on the television was in front of you.

“It’s nice to see you both,” Heechul grinned, the first to speak up. “Y/N looks like she’s just been told she’s about to experience the happiest day of her life. You’re only at Knowing Bros, it’s nothing special.”

Your head shook immediately in response, “you have no idea of how big a fan I am of all of you guys, I keep trying to get Jimin to pinch me because I don’t believe it.”

“If you’d rather date one of us than Jimin, just let us know,” Soogeun teased.

Your eyes widened, picking up the hammer straight away to go over and hit the top of his head, making sure any jokes were squashed instantly. You’d learnt from watching Knowing Bros over the years that it was important to stand your ground early.

After your profiles were read out, Jimin invited you to sit down whilst he picked up the cue cards that had been left on the desk for you both. As he read through the first one, he couldn’t help but chuckle, glancing across at everyone.

“Y/N loves this programme, but what event did she once miss out on with me because she wanted to stay at home and watch Knowing Bros instead?” He questioned.

Your eyes widened as you recalled the occasion. Jimin quickly spotted you sinking down in your seat, hitting the palm of your hand against your forehead. Heechul sniggered beside you, whilst Hodong knocked your seat with his foot.

“Was it a concert?” Kyunghoon questioned, raising his arm in the air. “I would pick one of your concerts over us any day of the week.”

“It’s not to do with the group,” Jimin clarified, “something a bit more important than a concert.”

“Have we ever aired on Christmas day?” Janghoon asked, trying to figure out the answer.

Jimin’s head shook, “it wasn’t Christmas, but if you were on, Y/N would watch it.”

You paid close attention as guesses continued to be yelled, most of them completely off the mark. You only hoped that the guesses would continue for long enough that the answer wouldn’t be read out, but as time was of the essence, a member of crew soon asked Jimin to give out a hint to help.

“Here’s something that will make it easier to guess,” he spoke up, walking back to the front of the classroom. “It was something to do with my family.”

“Answer!” Sangmin yelled from the back of the classroom, “did you miss maybe a family birthday? Was it a special occasion that you decided to skip for us?”

Jimin’s head shook, spinning around the room. “It was a special occasion, but not a birthday. Think of special occasions within a relationship.”

“If it was a special occasion, was it maybe when you were meeting his family?” Youngcheol asked.

Jimin’s smirk grew, as Hodong yelled out to add something to the end of it. “Did she forget about meeting your family because she was too busy watching Knowing Bros at home?”

“That’s it,” Jimin chuckled, throwing his arms up into the air. “I waited for an hour at my parent’s before having to ring her and see whereabouts she’d got to.”

“That is proper dedication,” Soogeun cheered, “you really are a huge fan of all of us. I bet his family weren’t too pleased though?”

Jimin’s head shook, as he turned the card over to read over the next one. His eyes rolled as he read through it, meeting your eyes with a smile.

“Not many people know I made a cameo in Y/N’s latest music video, but what was my cameo?” He asked, “and when I say no one knew about it, I mean no one knew.”

“Were you a love interest?” Kyunghoon asked, earning groans from everyone for his obvious answer.

Even Jimin scoffed at his poor answer, trying to encourage them into the right direction better. “It was something very discrete, I don’t think you would have been able to see my face in the music video unless you knew it was me you were looking for.”

Janghoon called out next, “were you a part of the set, maybe something stupid like an animal or a plant in a costume?”

Jimin’s shoulders shrugged, “you’re not far off the mark with the costume part.”

“I think I watched this video,” Heechul grumbled, trying to remember it all. “I remember that there was a guy who had prosthetics on his face.”

The sudden squeal from you pretty much gave the answer to the rest of the room. “Did you play the guy that tore the mask off at the end of the video?”

“That’s it,” Jimin laughed, as a photo came up on the monitor by the cameras. “The guy who was supposed to do it dropped out, and after a lot of convincing from Y/N, I agreed to put the prosthetics on and be the guy.”

The two of you ran through the rest of the segments, participating in a game with Shindong before the shoot was finally brought to the end, and the two of you led off the set.

“So, did Knowing Bros live up to your expectations?” Jimin asked as you walked back into the room.

You smiled back at him, “it was everything I imagined and more. I really don’t think I’ve laughed that much in a very long time.”

“I’m glad you had a good time jagi.”

---

Masterlist

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively.

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time.

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders.

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone.

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close.

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him.

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry. Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call.

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go.

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him.

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it.

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather.

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down.

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming.

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable.

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead.

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips.

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words.

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience.

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?”

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it.

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view.

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out.

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.”

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day.

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner.

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family.

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late.

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids.

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started.

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year.

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini.

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day.

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them.

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously.

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you.

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did.

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him.

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica.

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine.

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato.

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior.

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now.

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest.

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation.

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

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bokutosworld · 4 years

Text

hey, you’re warm | sakusa k.

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

wc: 1.8k words, fluff. little bit of angst, reader is heartbroken on christmas that’s sad.

summary: You’ve accepted that you'd be alone for Christmas. It was a surprise to find your best friend standing right outside your doorsteps.

this is part of the winter wonderland collab! you may check out the other stories here!

---

"The busy streets of Shibuya seem to be livelier than usual as families, friends, and couples gather to celebrate the Christmas Eve. And it seems that the night will become even more special as we are expecting a beautiful snowfall. So be sure to bundle up if you're planning to spend the evening with your loved ones outside."

The news coming from the television is the only sound that fills the empty apartment. Who would've thought that you would be wasting away the merriest time of the year all alone and cocooned in your one-bedroom flat? You certainly didn't think that a week ago, when you were looking forward to the exciting festivities you have planned for you and your boyfriend. You certainly didn't see it coming when he abruptly ended things, leaving you heartbroken, confused, and insecure. At least he didn't just disappear out of the blue, you consoled yourself.

But still that thought was enough to make you shake your head in sadness and take a sip from your chocolate drink that has now turned as cold as your heart. Clutching your robe closer to your body, you peered at the street below and looked at the number of people who were happily strolling. You see couples holding hands, families with their matching sweaters and mufflers, even groups of teenagers running about town and spreading the holiday cheer.

A glance at the wall clock tells you that it's only 8:45 PM, still a little early for you to hit the bed. But it wasn't as if you had anything eventful planned for the rest of the night. After you downed the rest of your drink in one go, you walked to the kitchen to wash your mug. You just turned off the lights in the living room when the ringing of the doorbell startled you from your forlorn thoughts.

You didn't think anything about it at first. Maybe it was the Christmas carolers wishing you a happy holidays and asking for some generous donations. You figured they would leave if you didn't pay them attention so you resigned yourself to your bedroom.

But the buzzing did not stop, even if you were already tucked in the comforts of your warm bed. You groaned and pulled yourself up, almost stomping on the way to the door to see who was so incessant on disturbing your peace on Christmas Eve. You didn't expect to see the masked face of your best friend, Sakusa Kiyoomi.

The two of you stood in the doorway for a few minutes, just staring at each other with blank looks on your faces. Kiyoomi shivers from the cold, his breathing ragged. His eyes narrowed at you, "Are you not going to invite me in? It's cold outside."

"Oh, right," you chuckled, moving to the side to make way for him. You closed the door and turned around to see him taking off his shoes and dusting some snowflakes that have fallen on his jacket. You extend a hand to take his scarf and jacket, hanging them on the rack near the door.

"Didn't you have a thing with your teammates tonight?" You asked when you notice the gym bag that he always carries around. As soon as he puts them down, Kiyoomi makes himself comfortable on your couch, stretching his legs and leaning back on the headrest with his eyes closed.

He hums, "Yeah. We had dinner at the izakaya downtown but I didn't want to go with them to the bar." When he sees the judging look on your face, he was quick to say, "Stop. You know how I hate crowds. And it's too cold for me to go anywhere."

"I wasn't saying anything." You toss him the remote to the television, a silent invitation for him to choose what he wants to watch. "Do you want a drink? I have orange juice, milk, and wine."

"I'll take wine, thanks." From the kitchen, you can hear him flipping through the channels, a dissatisfied grunt often leaving him when he sees that a cheesy holiday movie is showing. You go out to the living room, bringing two glasses of wine and a plate of some biscuits, just in time to see that he has opened Netflix. "Should we watch the new true crime documentary?"

You nod, "Yeah, sure. I'm down with whatever." As soon as the familiar ta-dum sound begins, you cozy up next to him on the couch, holding your wine glass and focusing your eyes on the screen. Nights like these weren't uncommon to you and Kiyoomi. For as long as you can remember, the two of you have been by each other sides all throughout high school and college. He's always been your constant support system, and you were the same to him.

So it wasn't that much of surprise to you when he nonchalantly throws an arm over your shoulders, bringing you closer to his body. You hum contentedly, leaning in to his warmth and you take in that familiar soft scent of vanilla and sandalwood. It's comforting and soon, you find yourself close to drifting off to sleep, your head falling to his chest and being lulled by the erratic beating of Kiyoomi's heart.

But the nap doesn't happen when Kiyoomi, out of nowhere, murmurs, "I'm disappointed with this setup. It's so lonely in here, there's not even a single mistletoe, ornament or stocking hung up." His statement completely pulls you out of your drowsy state and you muster all your energy to glare at him.

"I don't really feel like celebrating." Your voice weakens as you say the second part, "Besides, I'm all alone anyway." But of course, Kiyoomi doesn't miss it.

The movie serves as background noise at this point. He seems to ponder on something, his mind bringing him back to years ago when he would come to your family house whenever you felt upset. He reminisces on how his younger self used to cheer you up, his photographic memory pulling up scenes of you and him playing board games until the wee hours of the night. Until you finally felt happy again.

"Hey, do you still have that jenga with you? His question was puzzling, prompting you to look up at him with a perturbed look. He chuckles, his voice deep as he teases you, "Why are your eyebrows creased like that? It's not like I asked you a difficult question." A hand is raised, and before you know it, Kiyoomi has playfully hit your forehead.

"With that attitude, I am not bringing that game out." You grumble, pushing off him to massage the spot that he hit. He was giggling now, and it was a sight that only you have always been blessed with. It was only in your presence that he seemed to relax and show his true self. And this thought helps uplift your dampened spirit. "Alright, wait here. I'll get the jenga."

Five rounds in, zero wins for you, zero loses for Kiyoomi.

"Can't you show a girl some mercy, 'Omi," you complain after losing five straight games. Were you so unlucky in life that even in simple games you can't get a win? That thought drained you and you reach out for the bottle of wine to refill your glass.

Kiyoomi watches as you pour another serving. "It's because you are always drinking that you can't get your mind straight enough to play." You know he's just looking out for you and your low alcohol tolerance, so you find no ill intentions behind his words. He moves to snatch the wine from your grasp, but you were quicker to hide it behind your back. You stuck out your tongue at him.

He sighs, "Shall we go for another round?"

"Of wine or jenga?"

He stands up, going over to your side and offering a hand out to you. "Actually, that's enough of both for tonight." He drags you up to him, making you stand on wobbly feet and guiding you to the bedroom. You were whining almost all the way to your room, complaining like a little child who has not been given a gift from their Christmas wishlist.

Kiyoomi did not mind your playful punches and tugging on his shirt though. He was used to your antics. He didn't find it hard to tuck you in your bed, fluffing the pillow to make it comfortable and pulling the blanket over your body. He smiles when a contented expression takes over your features and he debates tucking the strand of hair that obstructs his clear view of your eyes.

Just when he thought you've finally calmed down, your eyes shoot open and it startles him a little. You grin, "Do you want to join me in bed, Kiyoomi?"

You always had a way with your words, sober or not. And at this moment, Kiyoomi has half a mind to jump in and cuddle with you until morning breaks. He almost says yes, but he remembers he was still in his outside clothes. He ruffles your hair, "Let me wash up first."

The hot shower that Kiyoomi takes in the bathroom allows him some time to think about the decisions he has made that led him in your apartment tonight. He recalls the first few hours he spent in the company of his teammates. But majority of that time was spent worrying over you.

Though you didn't outrightly mention it to him, Kiyoomi was not as oblivious to turn a blind eye to your heartbreak. When you texted him a week ago about your breakup, he constantly cursed the stupid jerk in his head. How could he have let go of such an amazing person like you? He lightly punches the wall, his fists curling as he remembers the face of your ex. As much as he'd like to drag his sorry ass to hell, he worried about you and it surprised him and his teammates when he immediately ran to the direction of your home.

After turning off the faucet, he steps out and steam fills the room. He dries his hair and wears the hoodie and shorts that he always keeps in your apartment. When he returns to your bedroom, he sees you sound asleep. He turns the rest of the lights off and carefully slides in to your side.

He's shocked when you turn and snuggle closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He gently strokes your head and the action stirs you lightly awake. "Hmm, you're warm," he hears you mumble.

Kiyoomi sighs in content and he thinks that he made the right decision coming to your aide tonight. He envelops you in his embrace and presses a kiss on the top your head, "You will never be alone. You'll always have me."

He doesn't mind spending Christmas like this with you. From now and forever.

FIN. taglist - @aii-channn @peteunderoos @jungtoast @nekoclysm @our-tall-slytherin-queen @isabella5 @slippinglasses @yhyucklee @rowley-with-ackerman @lilacnoodles @ineedsomefoodpls (can’t tag those in italics!)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuucreations #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fics #haikyuu x you #haikyuu one shot #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu!!#[❄️] winter wonderland

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years

Text

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #54

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

A/N: When I first started this project, I sat down and figured out who I wanted to go with each episode. This one had me stumped for along time. I mean - Burt I'm using elsewhere. :) And there isn't really anyone else in their story. So, I based this off a real life event that happened to my brother. He actually did propose to his wife at a skating rink - and these photographers, who were waiting for friends of theirs, caught their proposal on film by accident. An interesting serendipitous moment. And so, I had my inspiration for this chapter. Thanks so much for reading guys - happier times are afoot!

***

The Photographers (Glee, Actually)

“This looks like a good spot,” Nate drops the equipment down next to him. Shouldn’t take them long to get ready, and their view of the park is pretty spectacular. Nate takes out his camera, putting it together, and aiming it at the skaters on the rink.

“Doesn’t this job feel a little, I don’t know, weird?” His good friend Carla says as she helps him set up. “I mean, normally both parties know when they’re being filmed.”

“Hey, the dude wants his proposal on camera, but it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Nate argues. “Besides, he paid double my normal rate, so we can’t really fuck this up. I gotta pay rent.”

“But you haven’t even met this guy,” Carla argues. Nate knows she’s more annoyed that he dragged her out in the cold on Christmas Eve. But it’s not like either of them had any actual plans outside of their annual turkey and stuffing dinner they get at the diner every year. “How do you know we aren’t secretly working for the government? Or the mafia? Remember the Palmer job.”

He winces at the memory. “Look, the guy promised me he’s legit. Just some dude excited to be finally asking his boyfriend to marry him.”

“The gays don’t usually do this in public, you know,” Carla eyes him suspiciously. “Seems fishy.”

Nate side-eyes her before looking through his camera - scanning the crowd for his target. A job’s a job, he figures. He doesn’t care if the Queen of England decides to pose nude on top of a horse. If it pays, he’ll take the job. And right now, his job is to find a dark haired man who plans on proposing to his boyfriend in the middle of the ice rink. Apparently, it had been their first date, and he’s trying to recreate that.

Nate scans the crowd, not really finding anyone who fits the descriptions he had been given. Until he sees a couple of younger guys, holding hands, skating together, laughing and giggling as they did so. They’re a bit young - considering the message Nate was given said that the couple had been together for nearly a decade. Hell, maybe they met as kids.

Time passes slowly. Carla shivers next to him, throwing him skeptical looks. Nate follows the kids with his camera for a bit, taking a few candid photos mostly to fill the time. And hey, maybe the couple will give them more money if they like them. As midnight approaches, Nate wonders if this is even going to happen. Maybe it is all a joke. Or maybe the dude is chickening out? Based on the ecstatic looks on the kids’ faces, he doesn’t see anything to indicate that they aren’t happy together.

Eventually, the darker haired one of the two starts being fancy with his ice dancing skills, twirling around the other one. There’s a bit of laughter as he eventually falls to his knees. Thinking this might be it, Nate readys his camera - taking shot after shot as the kid looks up to the other one. It’s a fast moment - he’s not entirely sure what is going on as the two of them seem to be talking. He doesn’t see a ring, nor is there any jumping for joy moment, but the kid on his knees is helped up by the other one.

And then something strange happens. The lighter haired one sees him. Looks directly at him with narrowed eyes.

“Oh no,” Nate mumbles. He shakes Carla who is sitting on the ground half asleep. “I think they saw us.”

“Isn’t that part of the plan?” Carla grumbles.

“Based on their faces - I don’t think so,” Nate says.

Nate barely has time to put away his camera before the boys come to the edge of the rink.

“Hey!” the lighter haired one yells. “Hey, you with the camera!”

“Whadda ya want?” Carla snarls.

Nate backs her down. “Can we help you?”

“Yes, I want to know why you were taking photos of us.” The kid demands.

The darker-haired one puts a hand on his arm. “Kurt, calm down, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

Kurt, however, looks incredibly upset. “No - these guys were taking photos of us.”

Nate gives them a confused look. The darker-haired one doesn’t seem to know what’s going on either, but at least he’s more polite about it. “Look, we were paid to alright? You are Alex? The guy who hired me to take photos of his proposal? Said in your letter you’d be proposing to your boyfriend in the spot of their first date around midnight on Christmas eve. Well, here I am - doing what you asked.”

The darker-haired one, smirks. “I’m so sorry, that is not us.”

Shit.

The lighter-haired one, Kurt, isn’t backing down either. “Don’t you tihnk we’re entirely too young to be getting married?”

“It was an honest mistake, Kurt.”

“We’re not even a couple, Blaine.”

“Well, the two of you fooled me,” Nate grumbles.

Carla’s standing behind him - howling with laughter.

“Well, I’m sorry for your trouble,” the darker-haired one, Blaine, says. “Maybe that’s your couple there?”

He points across the rink to a couple of middle-aged guys with their arms around each other, both of whom look way closer to the descriptions given than these kids.

SHIIIIIIIIITT!!!

“Uh, thanks kid. Sorry for the trouble.”

Later…

After he thankfully is able to save his own ass by capturing the proposal he’d been paid for, the darker-haired kid from early approaches him, this time alone.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to trouble you, but can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks.

“Sure kid,” Nate says as he packs his equipment up. Carla’s busy in the bathroom, so he has a few minutes anyway. “What?”

“Um, I know this is weird, or whatever, but did you actually take photos of us?”

“Yeah - I’ll make sure they don’t get on the net or anything,” Nate says. What a waste of film.

The kid bounces in his place. “No, actually, I was wondering if I could have them. I’d be happy to pay you for them - I have a couple hundred bucks I could give you.”

Nate eyes the kid suspiciously. “Really?”

The kid nods eagerly.

“What the hell, why not?”

“Thank you so much,” the kid says, his eyes wide and happy.

There’s a quick exchange of information. It’s been a weird night, but at least it’s not a total loss.

The kid, however, lingers just a bit once they wrap up business.

“What?” Nate asks.

“I know this is a weird thing to ask but -- did we really look like a couple out there?”

Nate gives a hearty laugh. “Yeah.”

The kid bites his lip, trying to downplay his excitement. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Merry Christmas, kid.” Nate says. I hope whatever it is works out for you. Now, to find Carla and get out of this frickin’ cold…

#s.o. writes things #99 perspectives #klaine #klaine fic

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ilovejevsjeans · 3 years

Text

Daniel Ricciardo on his passion for combat sports, a walkout song and the time he asked Lewis Hamilton to ‘fight’

McLaren Formula One driver Daniel Ricciardo, who currently sits seventh in the driver standings heading into this weekend’s Spanish Grand Prix, is among the world’s best behind a steering wheel. But how would he fare if he swapped his racing gloves for boxing or MMA gloves?

“I’d love to do a charity boxing match or something just to feel that adrenaline of walking to a ring,” Ricciardo said. “It’s on my to-do list for sure. At school I had a few little fights but nothing crazy. Nothing I’d brag about here.”

Ricciardo says he learned the sport of boxing from a friend who fought as an amateur growing up. However in recent years his love of combat shifted more toward mixed martial arts, a sport that is “quite beautiful. It’s an art form and I was just taken by it.”

The Australian — who boasts 4.6 million followers on Instagram — rarely misses a fight night, whether that’s a small card or pay-per-view. Every Monday he gears up for multiple MMA podcasts to hear analysis on what just took place in the cage.

In an exclusive interview with The Athletic, Ricciardo opened up about his love for fighting, which driver would make the best opponent and why Lewis Hamilton turned down an opportunity to get in the ring against him.

You’re an avid fight fan. How did this passion for the sport start?

One of my best friends growing up, when he was growing up, he was doing amateur boxing and got very good at it. I was then doing my racing and he was doing his boxing. We were both on a bit of an unconventional path — both individual sports, not really the typical sports the kids at school were doing. We had that in common. Once I started taking my racing more seriously I began taking my fitness more seriously. So I started going to his gym to just train. I really enjoyed doing it. But the truth is — I don’t want to lie to anyone. I’m not a fighter. As much as I would picture beating the bully up at school, it’s not me. But I just fell in love with not only doing it but also watching it.

I enjoyed watching boxing but it was really when I got exposed to MMA … It just had me. It was back in 2011 when I started properly getting into it. It was the quickest sport I had ever been absorbed by. I was all in.

My whole YouTube feed is just all MMA shows, whether it’s press conferences, interviews, podcasts. It’s just full of MMA stuff. I’m a full nerd now.

Being in Australia and traveling a lot, are you forced to get up at weird times for fights?

The beauty was I was in LA when (Conor McGregor vs. Dustin Poirier 2) was on so it was prime time and I was happy. But normally in Europe, it’s 4 a.m. or 5 a.m., which isn’t as good. Any kind of sporting event that you look forward to, it’s always cool when it’s in the evening because you have all day to get ready and talk about it. If you wake up at 4 a.m. it’s like “ugh,” and then you’re straight into it so there’s not as much of a build-up. But it’s all good.

So do you still train at all?

No. To races, my trainer carries some pads and gloves just to stay a little sharp and change it up. If I’m getting my reflexes with some tennis balls, maybe I throw in a bit of a boxing combination or something. Again, I’m not saying I’m good or anything. But I just enjoy the whole movement part of it.

Boxing was cool and I enjoyed watching it growing up. But there was something with MMA where there’s just so many different disciplines and the matchups … as a contest it was so much more open and for that, exciting. I feel — I know it’s not always the case — you can kind of tell in boxing if someone is getting momentum, the advantage. It’s like “this guy is going to win the fight.” But in MMA, it’s like “this guy is winning standing but if this goes to the ground, it’s back to square one.” So I just loved it. I was really immersed by it all.

Did you have a particular fighter or fight that got you hooked early on?

One of the first events I watched was UFC 116. Chris Leben was on the card and I think he was losing the fight. And then he got a triangle with probably 20 seconds to go in the third round, so that was really exciting. Stephan Bonnar was also on that card and he got a really cool finish on “The Polish Experiment” Krzysztof Soszynski. That was a card for me where I was very taken from that. Then I discovered “The Ultimate Fighter.” I just binge-watched all of those (seasons).

In terms of fighters, Leben was a character, I liked him. Carlos Condit. I’d say Condit and Cub Swanson were two guys I got behind early on. Condit, I love his style and the way he carries himself.

Have you been to a lot of cards in person?

The very first one I did was the best for me personally. To this day, it’s my favorite sporting event I’ve ever been to: (Conor) McGregor-(Chad) Mendes. Vegas in July 2015. Obviously McGregor, but he wasn’t yet a champion and still kind of on the rise. It was the energy and atmosphere. It was just wild.

The whole event too. (Robbie) Lawler-(Rory) MacDonald, which had the fight of the year. Every fight on the main card I think was a finish, so I got very lucky at my first event.

I’ve done (Michael) Bisping-(Anderson) Silva in the UK. That was a great contest as well.

There are a lot of great fighters from Australia and New Zealand like Israel Adesanya, Alexander Volkanovski and Robert Whittaker. Have you had a chance to meet any of them?

I haven’t met them. A couple of them I’ve had interactions with on social media. But I love Whittaker, obviously Volkanovski is killing it. I’m fairly patriotic to the Aussie fighters. If they are fighting, 99 percent of the time I’ll be supporting them. But one of my good buddies is roommates with Luke Rockhold, so I got to know Luke the last couple of years. I was trying to do some training over Christmas with him but it didn’t end up working out.

I know you’re a big shoey guy. What do you think of Tai Tuivasa doing it after wins?

I’ve had a bit of contact with Tuivasa as well. It’s obviously great. But one thing I can’t get behind is spitting. That’s a little extra.

Plus he’ll grab some random fan’s shoe.

He definitely takes it to the next level. It’s cool that — as disgusting as it is — we have some traditions like this.

Shifting a bit to F1, have you ever gotten into any big fights on the track? What was the worst fight you’ve gotten in?

Earlier in go-karting there was a bit more. Unfortunately in F1, I guess because you’re on the world’s stage, even if you push someone you probably are going to get a fine or get penalized. At times it’s a little too clean. But I’m still waiting for the day that someone confronts me and I just lay them out (laughs).

You also just seem a lot more laid back than a lot of other drivers, so you’d probably not be my first choice of someone getting into a fight soon.

I’m all talk, it would be nice obviously to not have to fight anyone. But no one would expect it from me. Even when I tell people I’m a fight fan, people are like “oh really? You’re into that? You seem too nice to like that.”

But to get where I have in the sport, you need a bit of a killer streak in you. I do have it, but don’t always show it.

What other driver would make the best fighter?

I know some guys have done — for fitness — hit some pads. Randomly, he doesn’t have a seat this year, but Daniil Kvyat started doing quite a lot of boxing last year for his training. I saw a few clips and it started to look like he knew what he was doing. I would say he would be the guy who has the most idea. I’d put him and myself up there. The rest I don’t think stand a chance.

So if you had a charity event, you don’t have anyone in particular you’d want to go against?

To be honest, I actually asked Lewis Hamilton. At the beginning of 2016, he posted a video on his Instagram hitting pads. I was as well at the time, so I was like “hey, let’s do a charity fight.” I asked him in person. But he didn’t bite on that one so I was a little sad.

I might re-ask the question.

What about Max Verstappen? For people who watched the first season of the F1 show “Drive to Survive” on Netflix, I’m sure they would love to see you guys throw down at some point.

That would have been cool as well (laughs). Max would be a good competitor in the ring. The way he drives, he’s quite stubborn. He’d be a hard guy to put away. He’s probably the guy that you’d choke him and he’s going to sleep and not tapping. That would make an interesting one.

In contrast, is there an MMA fighter you’d like to race on the track?

An obvious one would be Conor McGregor. To hear in his Irish accent all kinds of things, that would make pretty good television. And he loves his cars. It’s obvious, but that would probably be the best.

How often would you say you watch fights now? Not just PPVs, right?

Unless I have something like work or another commitment, I’m watching it every week. Mondays I’m getting ready for every podcast. I sound like a real nerd but it’s just an addiction. I love it. Anyone doing that for Formula 1, I’d be like “you’re such a nerd,” but here I am doing it with MMA.

Is it hard to follow everything during the race season?

If I can’t see it live, then 100 percent I’m going to watch the replay or buy it later. But it’s also a good escape. If I’m traveling and I’m in between races, to get my mind away from my competition, I like to watch it. I also try to pick up things as well. Whether it’s from a mental point of view … I’ll look at the walkouts and how they are behaving. I try to figure out if they are really as calm and collected as they are portraying or if it’s a bit of a facade. I’m trying to work out what I can use in my events.

Do you have a walkout song prepared if you were to fight?

I’ve thought about it. The short answer is no. You typically have to have something heavy and fast, but I fell in love with Chris Weidman’s “Won’t Back Down.” It’s not typically a song that will pump you up but it’s so iconic and now it’s his, it’s very fitting.

I’d go for something more lyrically powerful as opposed to instrumental. I loved Max Holloway’s, I think it’s called Mount Everest (by Labrinth). (X)

#hopefully this is the right one anon #daniel ricciardo #dan #interviews

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btxtreads · 4 years

Text

Silver Nights

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: WISHING STAR

↳ Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x Reader

↳ word count: 2.3k words

↳ rating: G

↳ genre: fluff

In the middle of the busy airport, three figures sat side-by-side waiting for the overhead speakers to call them.

Soobin, Y/N and Kai sat patiently—trying to forget the events that led up to that point.

The girl sat in the middle, her head resting on Soobin’s shoulder as his head also rested on hers—hand wrapped tightly around her waist.

On her other side, Kai sat with his arm looping around hers—hand scrolling through his phone as his other held his iced coffee to his lips.

In front of him was a television blaring out Argenti’s local news, and she could almost feel the panic emanating from Soobin as the television suddenly flashed Beomgyu’s photo.

She cranked a weak smile as Soobin raised his head up, eyes wide as he wracked his brain for a topic.

“It’s fine, Bin.”

Soobin sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“I know I told you that you have to move on from this, Y/N,” Soobin frowned. “but I didn’t mean you have to at this very second. I know you’re hurt.”

“It’s not about me being hurt, Soobin.” Y/N replied, eyes intently gazing onto the prince’s photo on the television. “It’s about me hurting him. I can’t live with that.”

Soobin only sighed.

“It’s way more than just that, Y/N.” Kai said, locking his phone. “It’s more than just you and Beomgyu.”

“You think?” Y/N snorted sarcastically. “I screwed over Argenti, Kai. They were going to have Gyuu as the king—he’s perfect but I messed up.”

The girl’s eyes turned back to the television where a photo of Lord Jiho and Lady Eunjae was being flashed.

“Now those… things… are going to be king and queen, and I know they don’t deserve it—Gyuu does.” Y/N sighed. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Maybe this really isn’t your problem to fix.” Soobin said.

“I owe it to him, Binnie.”

“Well, wether you want to or not—there’s really not much we can do anymore. We’re just journalists, Y/N.” Kai said sadly. “Changing centuries-old monarchial systems? That’s a wish on a dead star for us.”

Y/N’s head shot up.

“Say that again.”

Hueningkai blinked, softly scooting away as Soobin shot him a glare.

“I’m sorry, Y/N-ie.” He mumbled softly. “I didn’t—“

“No, Kai.” Y/N said fiercely. “Say it again.”

“… there’s not much we can do?”

“The other one.” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Um,” Soobin piped up, furrowing his eyebrows. “We’re just journalists?”

“No.”

“Changing centuries-old monarchial systems is a wish on a dead star?” Hueningkai asked, confused.

“Star.” Y/N gasped, pulling her phone out and opening her photos.

Then, she let out a shuddering breath—almost leaping onto Kai and engulfing him in a hug.

“You’re a genius, Kai!”

“I have no idea what the hell is going on.” Soobin blinked as Y/N’s phone rang.

Y/N shot up, picking up her bag.

“We have to go.”

Soobin blinked, checking his watch.

“Where?”

The castle.”

Hueningkai and Soobin exchanged a look before the prior stood up and softly rubbed the girl’s shoulder.

“Y/N, I don’t think he’d talk to you.” He said. “And our flight leaves in 3 hours.”

Y/N shook her head, pleading to both boys.

“Please, guys. It’s an emergency.”

Before both of them could say anything else, there was a voice that called out Y/N’s name. The three turned to see a blonde boy shaking the keys in his hands.

“We gotta go.” Taehyun said.

The girl turned back to Soobin and Kai, smiling hopefully. Soobin huffed, rolling his eyes.

“I hate you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Y/N grinned, pulling the two boys towards the blonde. “Come on!”

Inside Argenti’s central court, all the kingdom’s politicians gathered. At the podium stood the Prime Minister, next to an irate Lady Eunjae and Lord Jiho.

“Isn’t this enough for the coronation to start?” Eunjae hissed angrily. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Not yet,” the prime minister shook his head. “The queen has to be here.”

“We are.” Yeonjun announced as he opened the door, revealing Beomgyu, Hanuel and the queen behind him.

“Stop the coronation—Don’t crown them.” Beomgyu declared, making the two by the altar laugh.

“On what grounds?” Jiho snorted.

“I am the prince—I am the late king’s son.” Beomgyu argued. “That means I am his heir—I am the next king.”

“Illegitimate heir.” Eunjae smirked, handing the certificate of adoption to Beomgyu with an insincere smile. “Here, take a look, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” Beomgyu hissed as his mother took the certificate gingerly.

As Beomgyu clenched his first in anger, Yeonjun bit his lip.

“Y/N,” he mumbled to himself, biting his lip. “Hurry.”

Y/N burst into the castle, sprinting over to the lounge. She was followed by Taehyun, hot on her heels. Soobin and Kai followed them, awed by the castle. As son as she reached the lounge, her eyes zeroed in on the Christmas Tree and froze.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Taehyun asked as the girl’s eyes wracked the decor.

“On a shooting star, the first sight I lay. The answer to everything I pray.” She recited, eyes zeroing on the glass star perched on top of the tree. “Shooting star.”

Soobin, Kai and Taehyun all exchanged looks as Y/N turned to them.

“Binnie, get the star.”

The tall boy frowned, stepping forward with furrowed eyebrows.

“Uh, sure,” he tilted his head. “But why?”

“Just do it.”

He sighed, reaching up to grab the glass ornament from the tip of the three and handing it to the girl.

“Be careful—it’s glass.” Soobin said.

“Okay,” Y/N nodded before throwing the star on the floor—shattering the ornament.

Taehyun gasped as Kai and Soobin flinched away from the glass.

“Y/N, what the hell?” Kai whined as the girl smiled over at a shocked Taehyun.

“That was… the king’s last gift to the queen.” Taehyun mumbled.

“I know,” Y/N said. “the queen never unwrapped it.”

“What do you mean?” Soobin asked, confused as the girl crouched down and sifted through the glass debris. “Y/N, what are you doing—you’ll get hurt.”

“No, I won’t.” Y/N grinned, standing back up with a tightly folded piece of paper in her hands. “What time does the interrignum end?”

“Thirty minutes.” Taehyun replied “Why?”

The girl held up the paper in her hand.

“Think we can get to the court before then?”

The paper in her hand read—Decree of the king.

Yeonjun fidgeted in his spot as he checked his phone. 0 texts. Next to him, Beomgyu shook in anger as Jiho knelt before the prime minister.

“Do you swear to do right by Argenti and her people—as her king and her subject?”

“I do,” Jiho smiles as Eunjae clapped her hands.

“Do you, as king, swear to take care of Argenti and her people first, before anything else?”

“I do.”

“Then before the new king says his oaths and wears the crown, are there any oppositions any of you wish to say?” The prime minister looked around expectantly.

Yeonjun bit his lip, anxious at the growing silence.

“Well,” the prime minister said, disappointed. “If there is none, then please repeat these—“

“I have one!” Yeonjun said loudly, raising his hand.

The prime minister sighed in relief, smiling over at him.

“What is it, my lord?”

“Hyung?” Beomgyu asked, confused as everyone turned to Yeonjun.

Yeonjun blinked, stammering as he wracked his brain for excuses as to what his disputes may be.

“Um, I—“

“I don’t think he has anything to say, minister.” Jiho scoffed, glared at the pink-haired prince.

“I do!” Yeonjun argued weakly. “I, uh, I—I—“

The door to the court burst open, a tall black-haired boy stumbling inside in panic.

“Oh god, oh god,” the boy mumbled to himself. “We’re here!”

Another tall boy with curly brown hair sprinted in, waving his arms as he stopped next to the other boy.

“We’re here! We’re here! Beomgyu is the heir! Beomgyu is the heir!” He announced, waving his hands.

Yeonjun blinked, exchanging looks with Beomgyu before he tilted his head.

“Who are you exactly?” Yeonjun asked.

Beside him, Beomgyu narrowed his eyes suspiciously before gasping.

“Wait, Soobin? Kai?”

The brunette boy smiled, giggling as he waved his hands.

“Hi!” He grinned.

Y/N and Taehyun entered the court, panting.

“They’re with me!” Y/N announced, sighing as they reached Yeonjun. “You have no fucking clue what just happened.”

With a huge sigh of relief, Yeonjun practically collapsed on the jury’s bench. Taehyun chuckled, shaking his head as he held the paper in his hands up.

“Beomgyu-hyung is the heir.” Taehyun said, handing the paper to Beomgyu. “It’s from your dad. One last decree he enacted secretly before he died.”

Beomgyu blinked, clearing his throat as he smoothened the paper out. His eyes trained over to Y/N, who leaned on Soobin as she watched the events unfolding before her. He cleared his throat before reading.

“Blood may be thicker than water—but blood is from the heart. The heart speaks for itself, and my heart tells me that my son—my heir is your prince. No one but my son, Choi Beomgyu.” Beomgyu read, hesitating slightly before continuing. “I therefore declare, as Decree 50299, that Beomgyu is my son. Adopted children of the king are listed as legitimate heirs—and therefore, legitimate to the throne. I believe that my son will uphold his values and become the best ruler that will serve the country. So goes, the will of the king.”

Beomgyu turned back over toY/N, who shot him an encouraging smile. The prince gave the decree over to the prime minister, who authenticated the decree with a smile before holding it up.

“It has the official seal of the king—Prince Beomgyu is the legitimate heir of the throne!” The prime minister declared.

There were cheers coming from the politicians at the stands. Taehyun and Yeonjun fist -bumped as Y/N smiled happily.

“This isn’t fair—This is wrong!” Jiho screamed. “We will fight on this. We will get a case filed for this, we will get a team of lawyers to handle this—“

Eunjae screeched in anger, taking off the ring on her hands and placing it in Jiho’s hands angrily.

“Make sure we get divorced first.”

Taehyun, Y/N and Yeonjun snickered at the side as the girl stormed away, being chased by her new ex-husband. The prime minister cleared his throat, calling for Beomgyu with a smile.

“My prince, if you may.” The prime minister gestured to the space in front of him.

With a nervous grin, Beomgyu kneeled—taking the king’s scepter in his arms as he began his oaths.

“Do you swear to do right by Argenti and her people—as her king and her subject?”

“I do.”

“Do you, as king, swear to take care of Argenti and her people first, before anything else?”

“I do.”

“Then before the new king says his oaths and wears the crown, are there any oppositions any of you wish to say?”

There was no response, only the anticipating smiles of the people in the court.

“Well, if there is none, then my prince—please repeat these words.” The prince said. “I,”

“I,”

“Prince Beomgyu of Argenti,”

“Prince Beomgyu and Argenti,”

“Promise to serve the country to the best of my abilities,”

“Promise to serve as a king of the people, and a king of the people.”

“So is the will of the king and the country.”

Y/N smiled as the crown of the king finally rested on Beomgyu’s head. Slowly, the prince—king—rose to his feet.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present King Choi Beomgyu I, King of Argenti.”

There were cheers and claps coming from all around. Media were finally allowed in the court to take the first photos of the newly crowned king. Beomgyu looked over to the side to find Y/N, who stood next to Taehyun and Yeonjun, all three with gentle smiles in their faces.

The girl sighed, turning over to the two.

“Well, this is it.”

Taehyun smiled sadly, reaching out to engulf the girl in a hug.

“We’ll visit you soon.”

“You better,” Y/N laughed, returning the hug. “Thanks, Taetae. I’ll miss you a lot.”

The boy only grinned, squeezing the girl and letting her go as Yeonjun threw himself on the girl.

“Y/N-ie, don’t leave me!” He whined, making the girl giggle.

“Shut up, Jun.” Y/N chuckled, burying her face in his chest. “Thank you, so much. I don’t think I could’ve lived through all of this without you two.”

“Thanks for taking care of my baby cousin.” Yeonjun replied.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, pulling away.

“I screwed him over, Junie.”

“No,” Yeonjun shook his head, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You told him what he needed to hear, and made him experience a love he never had before—so thanks.”

Y/N smiled as she slowly stepped back, falling in line back with Soobin and Kai.

“I’ll see you both around then?”

“Soon.” Taehyun grinned, waving his hand. “We’ll just pop up in your house.”

“Don’t be creepy.” Y/N smirked, hands interlacing with Kai’s and looking over at him with a smile. “Time to go home?”

“Let’s go home.” Kai nodded.

Y/N looked over at the podium, eyes locking with the new king. The girl lowered herself into a curtsey, shooting the new king one final smile before settling back into the arms of Soobin. As they walked out, the boy proudly placed a delivate peck on the girl’s head and she smiled in satisfaction.

Her job is done.

149 notes · View notes

snapefiction · 4 years

Note

Can I request a Snape x Reader where the reader gets pregnant and reveals her pregnancy in the form of a Christmas gift, maybe some cute baby kittens? 🥺 absolutely love your work, and thought to keep it christmassy!

A/N: Thank you so much for your compliment and for this cute request! I hope you like the way this one turned out! ❤️

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Word count: 2189

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, Swearing

Due to your Job at the tea shop at Diagon alley you always got very busy around the Christmas Holidays. Starting at the end of November the Wizards, Witches, goblins and a lot of more magic beings started to flood the small shop only to get the best tea in whole England, atleast that's what Severus your longterm boyfriend called it. Severus was a Potions Professor at Hogwarts one of the most popular schools for magic. The two of you met around 6 years ago when he ran into your shop only to get a bag of tea. He was very late and you actually already had closed but when your gaze met his you fell for him. That's why you let him in your shop after closing time to buy the last pack of peppermint tea. On the Next day he came back early in the morning as the first costumer of the day only to buy some more tea. This continued two weeks long until he had every variation of tea at his kitchen and finally dared to ask you out. Since then the both of you have been inseparable. The both of you never fought- you always somehow agreed with each other on every topic. Even though he might be a little older than you are, eleven years to be exact, he always shared your opinions.

That's why you knew exactly what to get for Severus on Christmas and what not. To bring more happiness into the small house at Spinners end the both of you always thought about adopting a cat. At first Severus was a little bit skeptical but when he saw that little kitten at the animal shelter in Cokesworth he fell in love with a little lady named Ally. He was crazy about her and you had never seen him this happy about something before. Because the Owls approached shortly before Christmas this year and you couldn't take some time off before the 24th of December you had to decide that Ally would move in with you the day after Christmas. It wouldn't be fair to her if she, as she was only a kitten yet, would've to stay at home all alone all day long. That's why you decided to wait which seemed to be the best solution for everyone.

Anyways. Today was the 16th of December and only after two hours after your shift started your feet started to hurt. This usually only happens short before your shift ended at 7 Pm but not at 2Pm. Not thinking anything about it you kept working and selling everyone the most variously teas in town. But it wasn't until a few hours later as you noticed how the smell of Vanilla almost made you choke. It turned from one of your favourite smells into your worst nightmare. Thinking about enchanting the damn box of vanilla tea you got more and more stressed out by every minute.

,,Is everything alright Y/N?" Your co-worker and chef Kim asked as she passed you a cup of tea. Curious she raised her brows.

,,Yes, I'm alright. Just caught a Cold or something." Smirking she nodded and you knew that she probably thought of completely other things.

,,Or maybe it's because you are all my cupcakes, dear." She now said in a bit huffing tone only to show you the empty plate as an evidence sign.

,,I'm sorryyy- they're just so great." Rolling her eyes Kim now sat down next to you. ,,I know. That's why you stole them the last few weeks from the fridge."

,,I'll get you new ones tomorrow, I promise." Chuckling you grabbed a cookie from your lunchbox before taking another sip of your tea.

,,I really hope so. Or else I have to ask Severus for a Potion that could make you hate Cupcake or I don't know.. enchant them or something. He's probably more intelligent than I am when it's about inventing spells and potions." She mumbled while browsing through a new catalog of tea ingredients and jars. The day went by without any further events and you almost couldn't wait anymore until Severus would come back home in less than 8 days by now.

Waking up in the morning you knew something wasn't right. Your stomach turned around and you barely made it to the toilet until the cupcakes and cookies from yesterday and the tea made their way up your throat again. This couldn't be happening. It was the most important time of the year for the shop and you just couldn't get sick right now. Somehow, even though you were 25 Minutes late, you still made it to the tea shop where a stressed out Kim was awaiting you.

,,Y/N! Thank Merlin you're here! I though you wouldn't come at all." Shaking your Head You silently took her place at the cashbox so she could do her job. As the lunchtime came around and you got to close the shop for round about 30 Minutes Kim wasn't waiting long until pressuring you to another smalltalk again.

,,Why do you look so sad? Did you forgot the Cupcakes or something?" Her Face was tensioned as the thought of not getting her loved cupcakes again.

,,They're in the fridge." You sighed before rubbing your eyes and leaning back against the wall. Watching her hovering above the plate of cupcakes you had to talk to her. ,,Sorry for being late. I just- I had to throw up all morning long. It's a nightmare." Holding a Cupcake in her hand the pink haired woman who was also somehow your best friend now listened closer to what you said.

,,Let's hope You're not pregnant, I wouldn't be able to lead the shop without you." She mumbled and bid into the sweet bakery in her hand. ,,Maybe it's just something about your Period coming up. PMS or so what."

,,I don't know. I can't even remember my last Period." You joked innocently, bid into a cupcake as well only to almost spit it out a few seconds after. Kim's eyes widened as well.

,,No way!" She said now putting the cupcake aside. ,,No fricking way!" Kim now gasped and held her hand above her mouth. You instantly realised that you couldn't remember your last period because you didn't had one. Wiping your mouth with a paper towel that Kim just gave you you rethought the last few months. The last time you really remembered your period was around October. October?! ,, Don't Play jokes on me!" She almost squeaked jumping happily up and down. If you really were pregnant she'd always of course support you and Severus. Wait- Shit- you had to tell Severus! But you didn't even made a test yet. Was it even necessary? Of course it was necessary. Looking back at Kimberly you just noticed how she had been talking to you all the time.

,,You know what, Sweety? You will take some time off today. I'll get Sarah to help me out and you can things get figured out, ok?" Just nodding easily you couldn't be happy just yet but just worry. If you were pregnant you were sure that Severus would be a lovely father but what about you? Are you ready to be a mom? A good mom the child of someone like Severus would deserve? And even worse if you weren't pregnant, would you feel sad or relieved? Would Severus even like to have kids with you? Your thought were so busy to rethink everything that you got out of words when you sat at the bathroom on the rim of the bathtub holding up the potion Kim just handed you and thinking about the Muggle pregnancy test you also got which were also about to tell you if you were expecting a baby or not.

,,And how do I use the potion?" You had asked Kim on the phone.

,,You have to spit in it and maybe shake it a little bit. If it turns red you're not pregnant." She said as her curiosity almost made her jump through the phone but you just hung up while still being shocked. Doing as she said you spit in the small jar, mixing it up with the fluid in it and shaking it. As you sat it down on the counter you buried your face in your hands. This was nerve wrecking! And a few seconds later you had your results.

24th December You had set up the Christmas Tree by yourself and already made Dinner so you and Severus could relax as soon as he would arrive late at the evening. Also you managed to pick up Ally earlier then planned due to Kim telling you to stay at home until Severus would be back again. The last few days you were so nervous it was stealing your sleep. Not being able to relax you sat on the couch watching Ally sleep in her small basket. Only when you heard the Keys turn in the lock you felt like some weight fell off your shoulders.

,,Y/N, love. I'm home." Your tall Boyfriend instantly went looking for you. Pulling you close to kiss you he softly hummed against your lips- you missed him so much! After he let go of you he instantly kneeled down to pet Ally. ,,She's so cute, isn't she?" Nodding he looked up to you. ,,She's a baby!" His voice was so high pitched it made you chuckle instantly. He was a strict man and seeing him becoming so excited about this tiny kitty was just too cute. As he got himself to let go of her he took off his jacket and sat down on the couch next to you. He always enjoyed slowly arriving at home just spending the first few moments with you but you were just too tensed. ,,Ready for Dinner?" You quickly pressed. Before Severus could answer you already hurried to the Kitchen.

The Dinner went on surprisingly unproblematic. He talked about the so very ugly Christmas sweater he got from Minerva and how he gave her some pink socks in return. To his disadvantage she loved the socks and wasn't upset or anything at all. They loved getting themselves the ugliest Presents they found so they could watch the other one being teased. Last year he got her the Biography from Lockhart- ohh she was raging about this one! ,,I'm never ever going to wear that ,thing'. Anyways, your presents are always the bests. I can't wait to see what you got me." He said before downing the last bite of chicken down with some wine. Smiling nervous you just nodded getting up to wash the plates. ,,Y/N, let me do that after we unwrapped our gifts." He smiled and kissed your neck softly.

Your legs felt like they would collapse any second that's how nervous you were by now. How would he react? Well, you were about to find out.

Sitting next to each other at the couch he smiling gave you another kiss. ,,What's bothering you so much?" He whispered against your lips and you knew your cover has been blown. His hands carefully petted the small kitty who just walked over his legs to lay down on your lap.

,,I'm just nervous that you maybe won't like my present. That's all." And by that you gave him the small box form below the tree.

,,I'm sure i will love the present as much as I love you." His smile was as wide as could be but as he opened the lid of the box and it discovered the small cat plushie, the potion you used to discover your pregnancy and a small baby body in the colours of Slytherin it faded. He was staring at it not believing his eyes. ,,What does this mean?" You opened your mouth but no words left your mind.

,,Y/N, if you're just joking - that's - that's not funny." He said now suddenly vulnerable and his eyes started to glistening. ,,I'm pregnant, Sev." You mumbled trying to hide your Face behind your hair. He suddenly breathed out and he hugged you tight.

,,I'm going to be a father?" Getting up while still hugging you he spun you around. Chuckling you noticed how all your worries weren't important at all. The relief was knocking all your doubts down. Looking at Severus you couldn't help it but cry - he was so very happy.

,,You're going to be the best father ever." ,,And you the best Mom. I knew that your present would be the best!" Letting you down you both sat down again. Instantly Severus hand found their way to your stomach trying to feel any type of Life.

,,Well, I have to admit that the new teacup I got for you isn't as good as your surprise. But I hope you still like it. I never thought I’d become a father myself- that’s so great!“ And again you kissed him being happy about the changes and the new members of your family. The both of you couldn't be happier!

Taglist: @deepperplexity , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4

Let me know if you want to be added in my Taglist. :)

#snape #Severus Snape #Severus Snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #snape x reader #snape x y/n #prosnape #my writing #snapefiction

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 3 years

Text

gotta say I’m particularly pleased with Loki using magic fireworks to show off, because I literally put that in the Steve/Loki fic I wrote for @veliseraptor a few years ago, where they sort of grow up together as childhood friends because of handwavey time-travel shenanigans:

Loki shrugs, looking down. After a moment he says, “We Aesir live such long lives that we mark such events differently as we age, or at least that is the common practice. Young children’s birthdays are celebrated every year; later, perhaps the day is marked in small ways but is truly celebrated once each decade, or once per century for adults and those nearing adulthood. I am approaching that age myself, so it is not as though I expect a regular, lavish celebration or anything of that sort. It is only…”

“Thor gets a bigger party?” Steve guesses.

“A feast of some kind, most years,” Loki says, his voice flat. “It is good for our warriors’ morale, you see. When he turned 750, the festivities lasted nearly a fortnight, and he was gifted with Mjolnir, a weapon of great power. So I thought…well.”

“Yesterday was your 750th too,” Steve says (it still feels unreal to him to measure someone’s lifespan with numbers that high, but when he does the math in his head, he’s pretty sure that’s about equivalent to 15, so basically Steve’s age).

Loki looks down again and nods. “In truth, I am not sure anyone remembered this year was anything out of the ordinary.”

Steve and his mom have never had much, but she’s always managed to make Christmas and his birthday special in some small way, taking extra shifts to afford an art book for him or ingredients for a cake. He’s been a little jealous sometimes of the stuff other kids’ parents can afford, but he’s never, ever felt forgotten. In every other way, Loki’s so much richer that Steve can barely comprehend it, but—

“Well,” he says, “I can’t throw you a feast, but I can take you to Coney Island for ice cream or something.”

“Ice cream,” Loki says.

“Yeah, haven’t you—no, of course you haven’t had ice cream, that’s my fault. I don’t really want to spend money on the rides right now, but just walking around is fun, and I can at least do ice cream.”

“I would like that,” Loki admits.

***

“Here we go, this vendor doesn’t charge extra for toppings.”

Loki balks again when Steve pulls out his wallet. “You needn’t, truly.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But it’s your birthday, and I want to.” He buys them both double-scoop cones with chocolate sauce and hands one to Loki as they head down the boardwalk. “Careful, it’ll melt and start dripping if you don’t eat it fast enough. Uh, but don’t eat it too fast or you’ll get a headache. You just lick it.”

Loki smiles sidelong at him, looking faintly amused. “I think I can manage.” He licks at the ice cream once, delicately, and then his eyes widen a little and he returns to it with a lot more enthusiasm.

“I guess you like it,” Steve says, grinning.

“This is good. I wonder if the cooks at home could make something similar.” He catches a drip running down the side of the cone. “How is it made?”

“No idea. I bet we could look it up somewhere, though. I think it’s milk, ice, and sugar, mostly.”

“Mm.” Loki’s almost reached the cone already—maybe Asgardians just don’t get ice cream headaches—and is finally slowing down. “Well, if you can find me a recipe, I will see what can be done.” He neatly sidesteps a child running between them and smiles at Steve in a way that makes his heartbeat pick up. “Thank you, my friend.”

Steve ducks his head. “Glad you like it.” His own ice cream is starting to melt, and taking care of that keeps him occupied for a few minutes. Then Loki hops up to sit on the boardwalk railing, facing the beach and the water. Steve scrambles up next to him a lot less gracefully, but he manages, and for a little while they just watch the boats and beachgoers, with the Wonder Wheel standing sentinel overhead.

“When is your birthday?” Loki asks.

“July 4, actually. Just a couple months away now. There’s always…” His lips twitch. “My mom used to say the fireworks were just for me, like the city was wishing me a happy birthday too.”

“I am afraid this is another custom with which I am unfamiliar.”

“Right, yeah, of course. July 4 is America’s independence day, since back in—well, actually, that’s not important. Everybody celebrates with fireworks, they’re like colorful little explosions, and we don’t have a great view but my mom started taking me up to the roof to see better.” Steve laughs a little. “I think she felt bad after a while for telling me the fireworks were for me, but I’d already figured it out, and honestly I didn’t mind. I’m nobody special, I know the city’s not going to celebrate me, but it’s still nice feeling like everyone’s celebrating with me.”

“Well,” Loki says, “to your assertion that you are ‘nobody special,’ I would be inclined to point out that you are almost certainly the only living human to count a prince of Asgard as a friend. Which…focuses on me rather more than I intended.”

Steve snorts. “That was pretty much luck anyway, right? You could’ve stumbled across anybody.”

“True enough. But I met you instead, and I am glad of it. If either of us has cause to be grateful for that luck, I think it would be me.” He darts a glance toward Steve and then away, studying the shoreline, and Steve is suddenly struck by how beautiful Loki is. He’s noticed before, but not quite like this, with the breeze ruffling Loki’s hair and the sun highlighting those fine, sharp features Steve is always itching to draw. He doesn’t just want to draw Loki now, though; mostly he’s wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

***

The next time Steve sees him, it’s slightly more than two months later and he’s sitting on the roof sketching the skyline when Loki pops into existence next to him. He’s doing a terrible job of trying to hide a self-satisfied grin, so whatever his latest prank was, it must have gone well. Before he can ask, Loki says, “Your birthday is soon, yes?”

“Last week, actually.”

“Damn. I’d hoped to find you on the day itself, but—well, nothing for it now. I wanted…” He reaches into a satchel, hesitates, and pulls out a small wooden box. “I brought you a gift. A small thing, but—I hope you like it.”

Steve sets his sketchbook aside and takes the box, intrigued. The top opens on a hinge; inside, cradled in a nest of straw, is a black crystal ball about the size of Steve’s two fists, with a polished wooden base. When he pulls it out, flecks of color glint across its surface wherever the sun hits it. It’s pretty, but he can’t think why Loki would give him a fancy paperweight, and he’s not sure how to ask without sounding ungrateful.

“Put your hand on the sphere,” Loki says, his voice still full of suppressed excitement, “and think of your fireworks.”

Steve does. A tiny spark of light shoots up from the base of the globe and bursts under his fingers, then another and another, red and blue and gold and green, spiraling downward and fading out before exploding again, and his confusion turns to wonder as he stares at it. It’s like a snow globe but it’s full of little fireworks instead, fireworks that look just like the real thing in silent, miniature form. He turns it in his hand and the lights follow the motion, sinking back to and shooting out from what’s now the bottom, in spirals and spiders and starbursts.

“Fireworks in a jar,” Steve says. “This is incredible.”

Loki grins. “It is, isn’t it? I didn’t make the globe, of course, I bought that, but the enchantment is mine, built from scratch.”

Steve turns the globe again, marveling at the tiny little world in his hands. “I thought you didn’t know what fireworks were?”

“As it happens, they are a very old invention—as Midgard marks time, anyway—so I was able to observe some myself at a celebration of some kind in China, and I replicated those. So…now you have fireworks that really are just for you.”

The globe is slightly warm against his palms, and Steve closes his hands over it. “This is—way better than anything I gave you.”

Loki looks at him with a crooked smile. “I suppose that is a matter of perspective.”

I mean, I guess I was wrong about fireworks not being a thing on Asgard, but still, it’s fun. :)

#loki #steve rogers #loki show #loki spoilers #frostshield #steve/loki #fanfic #marvel cinematic universe #me shamelessly using new canon to plug an old fic? it's more likely than you think #look I'm practically incapable of finishing anything

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