#and maybe one day every person would have played it

[mossangelll]

what arcane characters would be like at christmas!

inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3

i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Jinx:

jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?

aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)

all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath

she wants to show you how much she cares!

jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies

jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!

she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?

she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe

makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week

there’s just plain string all over the place 😭

obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti

instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top

she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental

gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way

jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously

jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday

Vi:

vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best

you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match

irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket

spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you

i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another

best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other

she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!

vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!

she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger

it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon

better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭

she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear

when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐

big mistake but how can you say no to her???

you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair

she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe

vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside

Ekko:

ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!

he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy

how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror

you can tell how much love and thought he put into it

he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!

ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!

snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!

this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights

honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭

but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end

accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops

he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt

that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles

he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house

yeah, you both get ill after that 😭

ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town

Jayce: 

jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3

i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)

if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you

when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face

who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️

he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!

jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!

mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)

you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other

he licks the icing off your cheek

you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics

after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house

doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house

it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done

he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house

he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you

jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you

Viktor:

viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!

he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up

spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products

“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away

“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”

says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭

you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about

you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while

he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!

viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!

loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose

the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^

makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them

goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time

likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find

viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland

Caitlyn:

cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel! 

she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you 

even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself 

she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever 

she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear 

cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!

she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something 

takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate 

if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics

she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over 

if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her 

has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you! 

wishes she could stay outside skating with you 

cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree 

Mel:

mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!

she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one

you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!

has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax

makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol

she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!

mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!

at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child

but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable

so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family

loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself

she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all

you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭

she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious

makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”

she’s such a cutie

mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby

Ambessa:

ambessa gifts you a spa day

honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift

a spa day is a spa day however

she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army

she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you

you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you

she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!

ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!

well, she’s not the one making them

she just watches you make them

but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them

she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby

you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭

she likes you, but not that much

ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)

Heimerdinger:

heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭

he spent precious time on that thing

doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas

everyone deserves a treat every now and then!

hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this

backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well

at least you liked the present

he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!

heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!

he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭

he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes

you know he has you by the end of the day lmao

he’s so cute you can’t even be mad

heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime

AU!Claggor:

claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants! 

this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children 

the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases 

gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning) 

he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it 

it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!

he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie 

claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking! 

he has his own apron and everything 

makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond 

makes enough to give out to family and friends 

he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside 

claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas 

AU!Mylo:

mylo gifts you wool gloves!

you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets

but he wants to hold your hand :(

so gloves it is!

two birds with one stone

he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!

mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!

he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭

like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this

he needs to calm down tbh

probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day

mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas

Silco:

silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne

he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve

he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas

as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed

when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath

way too many for one person

he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap

he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this

he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?

if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no

silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!

ok hear me out

one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year

and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭

keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed

his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious

he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume

so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes

it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost

doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that

silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol

Sevika:

sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle 

she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade? 

teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her 

her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her 

she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into 

sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!

she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch 

you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are 

she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up 

oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders 

you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it 

would die if anyone saw her like that though 

makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa 

she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells 

sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas 

Vander:

vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao 

i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)

you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!

you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug! 

you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask! 

he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it 

you both laugh at the christmas table over his present 

he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care! 

vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing

except drunk (it’s for charity!)

drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says 

i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs 

multiple people told them to shut up 

they just sang louder 

end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session 

when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun 

helping his people is his main priority  

vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow

masterlist

[limethefirst]

Hellooo, i hope your having a beautiful day. I saw your requests are open and that you wrote for movie shadow once. Would it be okay if maybe i requested movie shadow x a reader who prehaps eggmans niece. Maybe then when its just shadow, stone and her on the crab prehaps she takes shadow to her room on the crab and trys to play and show him some of her stuff not scared of him. Then maybe she remind him of maria 🥹? Idk i have sonic brainrot after seeing the movie today lol and ive had this idea since.

Do I look like her?

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehogs x reader (platonic)

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers

summary: as the niece of Eggman you are left behind on the crab with Shadow as the men finish their mission, but every time Shadow looks at you he sees someone else.

a/n: hii thank you so much for the request! I’ve been wanting to write more Sonic 3 fics because I love the movie so much! I hope this is to your liking and you have an amazing day!!!

You watched your uncle Robotnik and Gerald walked away together, planning to sneak into GUN and steal the final keycard they needed, leaving you, Stone and Shadow.

“I have avocados in The Crab. Let’s go make guac!” Stone chimed, both you and Shadow turned your head to look at him.

“Revenge guac.” Shadow responded, his brows furrowed watching as Stone slowly helped you back into the sewer drain.

You were warned about Shadow, he was dangerous Robotnik had told you. Robotnik was somewhat caring when it came to you, he wasn’t harsh nor rude, he saw you as a responsibility but not a burden. He was kinder around you, maybe he saw a bit of himself, being all alone in a world that tended to abandon.

Whatever it was, you knew his warnings were usually right, but having been around the hedgehog for a while you honestly didn’t believe your uncle. Shadow, although seemed tough, you could tell there was more behind the persona and all the walls he’d put up.

Stone walked over to the island in the middle of the Crab, preparing the avocados for the guacamole he planned to make.

You took the opportunity to show Shadow around. Being the youngest of the bunch you didn’t have many friends and this was a chance to make a new one.

Quickly you walked in front of Shadow, a bright smile on your face highlighting the innocence in all your features, it was eerily reminiscent of someone.

“Come, I wanna show you around!” You told Shadow, grabbing his gloved hand unannounced, making him slightly more on guard. Stone looked up from the guac he was currently working on, he seemed happy; smiling at the two kids.

Shadow didn’t say much as you dragged him to your room, he just looked at you. Watching as your hand gripped onto his, he couldn’t help but hold on as well. Fearing that if he let go he may never find it again.

As he watched you near the closed door, he couldn’t help but take in all that you were, your demeanor, your way of speaking, your bright attitude, it was just like hers.

“This is my room!” Your hand started letting go of his but his grip only tightened. You looked down at his hand and back up at him as his eyes scanned the small room. You only smiled at his gesture, not feeling the need to point it out.

As you guided him around still hand in hand you saw his eyes checking every corner of the room, “It’s small,”

Your sudden laugh catches him off guard, his head quickly turning to see your free hand covering your mouth, “Sorry sorry! It’s just that’s the first thing you say to me?” You jokingly tell the hedgehog.

He watches you for a little bit longer, his eyes widening. As he stares up at you, all he sees is her. It wasn’t physical, it wasn’t that you looked like Maria, no not at all, it was the fact your personality towards him resembled her so much.

You weren’t afraid, you approached him and didn’t see him as a weapon or some type of lab rat. It was like he was really a person around you, like he was capable of caring again.

Shadow didn’t say much, and that was okay, you could do most of the talking anyway, you enjoyed being able to finally talk to someone.

You sat Shadow down on the floor, letting go of his hand so you could show him some of the toys and games you owned, knowing he lived 50 years in the past you wanted to keep him up to date on all the newer stuff that had come up. While you were grabbing some items you decided to also play a movie, it would be cool to show him the new films they’d come out with.

He silently watched you hurry around the room, dropping strange toys onto him. He felt some weird string toys get stuck in his quills.

You heard him rustle around, seeing him pull out your worm on a string, “Very colorful,” he grunted, as he tossed the toy in the pile in front of him.

All you did was smile as you sat in front of him, describing each toy and how they worked, as the latest Godzilla movie played in the background.

It was ironic really, back then Godzilla was a monster and now he was a friend protecting the people from the other monsters.

He no longer sat with Maria watching movies and playing games, now he sat with you. Oh how things really have changed.

[please-destroy]

A Place To Be

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

.

You’d been training for this your whole life. 

It had taken effort, determination and skill to become one of the best Shield agents. It was a long journey but you were starting to be proud of the person you’d become. 

You hadn’t ever thought about one day becoming an Avenger, it didn’t seem like something that could be possible. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing when you were called to Fury’s office. Your mouth hung open as he explained that the request to join had come from a member of the team itself. 

Fury had gone on to outline your new training regime and the changes that this promotion would involve. Every detail, from moving to the Avengers Tower to training with Captain America felt like a dream.

You lay that night, your final night in the Shield Residential Quarters, and stared up at the familiar grey ceiling. It was hard to sleep, the events of the day had already felt like a perfect dream. You thought about the request to join. You felt confident it must have been Clint Barton. 

You’d trained in the presence of both Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton before and you’d naturally excelled at target practice, especially from long distances. It seemed like the sort of thing he’d notice.

.

Moving into the Avengers Tower was daunting. Carrying a rucksack with your most prized possession, you gazed around at the bright modern interiors. 

You’d disembarked from a Quinjet on the roof, before being directed through the building by the AI system. Standing there in a communal living room, expecting  your arrival were the other Avengers. 

You were surprised by the openness of the team to a new recruit. Each person greeted you with real warmth when they met you for the first time.

Natasha’s enthusiasm was the most muted. From the beginning, you noticed a carefulness whenever she addressed you. She gave you a small wave in greeting, instead of the hug or handshake offered by the others. She held back quietly as the team asked you questions and welcomed you to the building. 

You worried self consciously that she could tell just how excited you were to meet her properly. It was impossible to work at a place like Shield without admiring or envying the legend of the Black Widow from afar. Even small details from her missions spread like wildfire around that organisation. You’d heard every impressive rumour about Natasha Romanoff. 

Your paths had barely crossed during her time at Shield, but Natasha had always been unforgettable. 

You remembered the first time she’d smiled at you. It was during one of the target practice sessions that you’d excelled at. Clint had whooped loudly when you’d made an unlikely shot. The loud celebratory noise should have been what you remembered most from that session. But instead, it was Natasha’s pleased smile, arms crossed from where she stood quietly by the door. 

She’d looked beautiful. It had struck you then, and it still struck you now. 

Secretly, more than any other worry you had about Natasha’s quiet behaviour. You were afraid that maybe, despite your best efforts, she could tell you had a crush.

.

Your first in-the-field mission as part of the Avengers was an opportunity to shadow Natasha through an intel gathering assignment. 

You obediently hurried to the briefing room, following an announcement from the building’s AI that an Avengers meeting had been called. You sat in the chair next to Tony, and did your best to focus as the mission was outlined. 

You tried not to look too pleased as the realisation dawned on you that it was a mission for you to join. You were keen for an opportunity to prove yourself as part of the team.

.

Natasha approached you as soon as the meeting was done. You gave her a small smile.

‘I thought wearing necklaces was against Shield protocol.’ Natasha told you bluntly. The smile dropped from your face.

‘Yes. But this is the Avengers. (Y/N)’s playing in the big leagues now.’ Tony reminded her, brushing past the pair of you to exit the room.

‘I’ll keep it tucked under my clothes.’ You tried to assure her, hand reaching automatically to touch the silver charm around your neck. Natasha’s eyes were drawn to the movement. Your throat tightened at her attention.

‘It was from someone who cares about me.’ You added quietly, unable to help being a little defensive.

Natasha’s eyes glanced briefly back to your face. She looked thoughtful.

‘Lucky you.’ She murmured after a moment. You stood dumbly, watching her leave and feeling entirely off balance from the encounter.

.

Your first mission as an Avenger was a shitshow right from the start. 

Unexpected threats, incorrect mission information and a thunderstorm. 

You felt out of your depth from the very beginning. Soon enough, the fatigue of relentless combat began to wear you down even further. 

Natasha led you through the mission with ruthless efficiency. She undoubtedly kept you alive that day. She calmly refused offers of back-up over the comms. Her assuredness was almost undermined by the bullets ripping through the air above your heads. 

She was the best fighter you’d ever seen up close. She moved with a fluidity that reminded you of dance choreography. She never seemed to hesitate, moving from one action into the next. 

You did exactly what you were told; you trusted her instincts more than you trusted yourself.

.

The only time you felt at all useful was at the end of the mission, when you drove the car back to the pick up point.

Natasha had successfully retrieved the information but at the cost of a knife wound to the thigh.

She was dressing the wound herself, using the first aid kit found in the car’s glove compartment. You watched her carefully from the corner of your eye. Despite your worry about her injury and your own poor performance during the mission; you took a moment to marvel at how impressive Natasha had been to watch. She made being brave look easy.

It was only when Natasha’s leg seemed completely bandaged that you felt confident enough to talk. You reminded her quietly about the painkillers that she hadn’t yet touched.

Natasha refused, waving her red-stained hand back at you tiredly. You pressed your lips together, trying to think of a way to change her mind. You fiddled with your necklace absentmindedly, one hand on the wheel. 

‘You need them more.’  Natasha told you, glancing obviously at your own swollen wrist. 

You felt sudden unexpected heat burn your cheeks. Your wrist injury had come from an embarrassing trip and fall. Natasha’s leg wound had come from highly skilled hand to hand combat. Embarrassment flooded you as you realised how incompetent you must seem to her.

You took the painkillers silently and didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. 

.

For the rest of the day following that mission, you were dreading hearing Natasha’s report about your performance. It kept you up that night, like the stress of an upcoming exam result. You knew it couldn’t be good. Natasha clearly thought that you couldn’t even handle a swollen wrist.

You couldn’t have been more surprised when Steve’s hand rested kindly on your shoulder the next afternoon.

‘Sounds like you survived quite the mission.’ He told you simply. ‘Nat said you coped really well, all things considered. Just need a bit more practice with heavy fire scenarios.’

You only nodded in response, startled by the feedback. You wondered if that was what Natasha had really told him. You felt a growing certainty in the pit of your stomach that Steve had censored her report to be kind. 

You imagined Natasha asking Clint why he’d wanted you to join the team. You couldn’t get the image out of your head. It felt too plausible.

.

The next time you saw Natasha was in the communal kitchen area. She hesitated when she looked at you. You felt embarrassed when she glanced down at your now bandaged wrist. The silence between you lengthened uncomfortably. 

After that, you were purposefully quieter around Natasha, a weird kind of shame filling you whenever you caught her eye.

Natasha reflected your energy perfectly back. You often made elevator journeys together in that tense silence that always seemed to linger between you. You’d start to play with your necklace awkwardly and Natasha’s eyes would follow the movement.

Then, you’d think back to her chastisement about wearing it before that first mission and embarrassment would flood you again. 

.

Soon enough, life at the Avengers Tower began to settle into something like routine. The living quarters and regular team practice were effective in helping you get to know your teammates. You began to consider the other Avengers as some of your closest friends. 

As winter approached, you started to take on occasional planned missions with different individual members of the team. You didn’t get assigned again to Natasha. You tried not to think about why.

Though Natasha never avoided you, her carefully neutral tone told you that the awkwardness of your first mission together had not been overcome. 

.

The others definitely noticed the tension between the pair of you. It stood out against your comfortable dynamics of the rest of the group.

Soon, you started to notice their schemes to get the pair of you closer. 

Tony kept trying to encourage Natasha to give you flying lessons in the Quinjet. Every week Steve suggested that you partner up together for some additional training exercise. 

You never said no and neither did she. You never followed up on the suggested plans either. You let them float away, schedules becoming full at the last minute.

.

By the time December rolled around, you’d barely shared a handful of sentences with Natasha and every single one of them had been work-related.

So, when Tony held out an upturned Iron Man helmet filled with folded pieces of paper and told you to pick out your Secret Santa name, there was only one Avenger that you didn’t want to get.

‘This says Natasha.’ You eyed the paper suspiciously, wondering if it was bad luck or another sneaky scheme by the rest of the team to encourage the pair of you to make friends. ‘Do all the other papers say Natasha too?’

Tony snorted. ‘Please. If I was going to cheat at Secret Santa, then all the names in there would be mine.’ He snatched the helmet back before you could see for yourself and hurried away along the corridor.

You never got a definitive answer about the cheating. 

.

You did get a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Bruce when you asked him quietly for gift ideas for Natasha. 

You were trying not to let the upcoming Secret Santa ruin the holidays for you. But the prospect of buying Natasha a present was beyond intimidating.

Bruce’s first story didn’t help you at all. He told you about the birthday party that the team had planned for Natasha the year before. Clint had loudly protested the idea from the start. He’d argued it was pointless, given that no-one even knew her correct birthday. 

Still, the plan had gone ahead with the surprise party scheduled for an upcoming Saturday. Tony had sourced several extravagant presents on behalf of the team. 

You perked up at this part of Bruce’s story, hoping to get some inspiration for Secret Santa. 

Bruce mentioned the full range of brand new Stark industries tech that had been procured as presents and your hope flattened out. He hadn’t been kidding about extravagant.

Natasha must have gotten wind of the team’s intentions. She disappeared without a trace on the Friday night before the party. She reappeared back in the Tower on the following Monday morning, as if she’d never left.

Within an hour of her return, all the expensive waiting wrapped presents with her name on them had disappeared from the Tower. 

Tony still made occasional comments about it under his breath, but no one had ever addressed it directly with her. When Natasha didn’t want to talk about something, it was hard to bring it up.

Your nervousness shifted now into a feeling of dread. You felt frustrated at the practical stranger that you’d only ever wanted to like you. You were certain now that Natasha was going to hate whatever you bought her.

.

After the ominous story from Bruce, you spent the next few evenings alone in your room, scrolling endlessly through online lists for gift ideas. 

It was during one of these evenings that Natasha burst into your room unexpectedly.

Her eyes scanned the space, finding you instantly. She didn’t move closer.

‘I have you for Secret Santa.’ Natasha informed you tensely. You fought the annoyance that bubbled up inside you at her stressed tone. You weren’t hard to buy presents for, especially not compared to her.

‘Right.’ You replied, trying to keep your own tone calm.

‘What do you want?’ Natasha asked directly, her eyes focusing intensely on yours. You stared back at her, unable to believe what she’d just asked. You felt like another mission she’d been assigned to.

Something in you snapped, like a release of tension from every silent elevator ride you’d ever shared with her.

‘Just get me whatever you’d like me to have, Natasha.’ You replied harshly. ‘That’s exactly what I want.’

Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly. You watched her try to assess your tone and your words. You didn’t like the feeling of it.

You looked away, staring back at the laptop screen and trying to blink away the embarrassing tears of frustration. 

Natasha left then. You shut your laptop and covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. You hated that she saw you as such an inconvenience.

Now, you were certain you’d be getting an information pamphlet on Not Being Such A Little Bitch for Christmas.

In the end, you asked Clint for help. He gave you exactly one suggestion and you took it tiredly. A bottle of vodka was about as impersonal as Natasha felt to you these days anyway.

.

The team did the gift exchange on the 23rd of December, before those with holiday plans needed to leave. You certainly didn’t have any plans to head away for. You’d already moved away to work for Shield, and then again for this job. No one you knew even lived on this side of the country. 

You didn’t mind too much, in fact you were beginning to look forward to it. Eating a takeout meal in the Avengers Tower seemed like a novel enough way to spend the holiday.

The present exchange had a warm atmosphere from the start. The tacky plastic Christmas tree that Clint had obviously found in a dollar store seemed more cheerful than the professionally decorated one that lived in the main lobby. 

Your eyes kept flickering over to Natasha as she played with the fake pine needles absentmindedly. Her hair was tied back, not in its typical braid, but in a loose ponytail. It flicked over her shoulder every time she glanced between the little tree and the rest of the team. 

She’d dressed casually for the event, wearing black jeans, a black top and an oversized red hoodie. Her small smile was soft and her shoulders seemed relaxed. It was the first time you’d ever seen her look so unguarded.

You and Natasha were the last to exchange your presents. What you already knew became clear to the team. You’d both gotten each other in the Secret Santa draw. You swapped the gifts carefully. 

‘You first.’ Natasha nodded, something surprisingly tentative in her expression.

Natasha’s gift was small. Not wrapped, it sat in a plain gift bag. There was a small box and a white piece of card. You read the card first. 

‘I knew you’d make a great Avenger. 

Thanks for proving me right. 

Natasha.’

The words were simple, her signature looped itself prettily across the bottom of the card.

Your heart dropped in surprise. Your eyes found Natasha’s and a hot rush of emotion rose up inside you. Natasha gave you her small smile, it looked almost shy. 

She’d had faith in you from the start. She’d been the one to request your transfer into the team. You hadn’t even thought she’d remembered you at Shield. The smile she’d once given you in the training room flashed through your mind.

The heat rushed to your cheeks. You realised how much of her personality had gotten lost in translation. You remembered her offering you painkillers when you were hurt. You’d heard criticism in her kindness. You hadn’t been fair at all.

She nodded once at the box in your lap and you remembered the gift itself. You opened the box hesitantly, aware of the others’ curious stares.

Inside the box was a necklace. Your breathing shallowed out as you processed it. The charm was the same red hourglass that was the insignia of the Black Widow. 

You wiped the unexpected tears from your face. You caught Natasha’s look of anticipation and tried to smile back. Your ‘Thank You’ got lodged in your throat.

Natasha’s smile widened a little. She moved now to open your present. 

The change inside of you was abrupt. Suddenly, the world moved in awful slow motion. You felt hot shame build up inside your throat. 

You watched her pull the bottle out of the badly wrapped packaging. You watched her swallow as she realised what it was. Disappointment flickered briefly over her face before her expression shuttered itself into a neutral one.

You could tell she was aware of the onlookers. Natasha laughed once, dryly.

‘Thanks.’ She said to you, eyes still on the bottle. Her voice rasped. ‘I do like vodka.’

Now, an awkward apology got caught in your throat. Your hand wrapped itself tightly around the velvet necklace box. The room was quiet, you watched Natasha’s shoulders subtly tense.

‘Tony, maybe it’s time to order the takeout.’ Bruce suggested suddenly. All at once, the room around you became busy again. 

Natasha excused herself immediately to put her gift in her room. Her smile seemed honest, but you caught the emptiness behind her eyes when she turned away. 

Your gaze trailed after her until Tony blocked your view abruptly, asking if you wanted any wontons.

.

The urgent call for the Avengers to assemble came before the takeout had even been ordered. 

You were the only one left behind. There was no time to even debate you joining them; the team had left the Tower immediately. The emergency was upstate and two civilians had already been killed. There wasn’t even time to include you on the comms.

You spent the rest of the day waiting worriedly. You watched the news just to have a way to feel connected. 

You kept hold of the jewellery box, your thumb rubbing worried circles against the velvet.

The All Clear update only came through in the evening. You finally called in the takeout order, knowing the whole team would be starving upon their arrival. 

Everyone, except for Clint and Natasha, entered together. Your eyes scanned the elevator worriedly as it opened up on the floor.

‘Clint had to head straight to his folks for Christmas.’ Steve told you quickly, noticing your obvious concern. ‘I guess Natasha went with him.’

Disappointment flooded you. Clint wasn’t due back for a full week. You wondered if Natasha would be away for that long too.

You ate in silence, brooding over your missed chance to even thank her properly. You owed Natasha more than one apology. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket midway through the meal.

You slid it out to see a text from Clint.

‘Gone straight home for Christmas with family. Can you check Tasha got back safe?’

You read the text over again unnecessarily. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and quietly excused yourself from the group.

.

You headed straight to Natasha’s rooms in the Tower, two floors down in the elevator. You tried hesitantly to enter, expecting the door to be locked. But, the handle turned.

Natasha was sitting on the wide windowsill. Her eyes were rimmed red and she was staring out at the skyline of New York. You saw the bottle of vodka balanced between her legs, already half drunk. You felt sick.

She turned at the sound of you. Her long hair hung loose, framing her face. Her smile was too sad to seem genuine. 

The room felt too quiet.

‘I’m sorry.’ You told her immediately, rushing out the words that you’d been wanting to say all day.

‘For what?’ She asked softly. You couldn’t tell from her head tilt if the question was genuine.

‘I should have.’ You began to answer anyway, gesturing over at the vodka bottle. ‘I should have.’ You hesitated, trying to find the right words.

‘That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha told you suddenly. 

Disbelief clouded your mind for a moment. You paused in confusion.

‘It’s the only Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha added quietly, the side of her head resting against the pane of glass.

‘I thought you didn’t like presents.’ You admitted after a moment. Natasha’s eyebrow raised and you could feel her surprise at your words. 

‘Bruce told me about your almost birthday party.’ 

Natasha laughed once then. The laugh was genuine but the tone of it made you feel sick.

‘My mother abandoned me in the street. Why do I need a present for that?’ The hurt in the words stung sharply.

Natasha shut her mouth quickly then and you could tell that she was fighting not to cry. You watched her jaw tense. A tear rolled down her cheek and she rubbed it away. 

Your heart ached sharply. You wondered if anyone really knew Natasha. If everyone made assumptions, like you. 

You walked across the room. You noticed how harshly her hand had touched her cheek, seeing the reddened mark from the contact. 

You noticed her shoulders stiffen slightly at your proximity.

‘I think you’re exceptional.’ You told her softly, sitting along the same windowsill and facing her.

Natasha snorted, her eyes drifted between the view of New York and you.

‘That’s because I can kick your ass.’ She said lightly. You watched her try to crack a smile to relieve the tension. 

You stretched your leg out slowly and nudged hers with it. Natasha’s eyes met yours immediately in response, the half smile frozen on her lips.

‘No.’ You said firmly. ‘It’s because you are so kind.’

Natasha blinked at you in surprise. A frown pulled at the edge of her mouth, her disagreement was immediate.

‘You don’t know that.’ She muttered harshly. ‘I’ve done terrible things.’

Her thumb traced the glass rim of the open vodka bottle as she looked down at it.

‘Where did those birthday presents go then?’ You asked, already having guessed the answer.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

‘Those were ridiculous. Too expensive. Tony went beyond overboard.’ She told you, focusing completely on the vodka bottle now.

‘Someone always needs them more’ You murmured, echoing the words she’d once told you when you’d offered her painkillers. 

Natasha’s look was appraising as it focused back on you. Her eyes widened slightly and you wondered if it was at the accuracy of your memory or your guess.

Her mouth relaxed almost imperceptibly.

‘Not to mention this.’ You continued quietly, opening the small velvet box that you’d been carrying around all day. Your fingers trailed along the necklace chain.

‘I just figured you liked jewellery.’ Natasha muttered and her eyes glanced over to the necklace that you were wearing.

‘It’s perfect.’ You told her as you undid the clasp of the necklace around your neck, removing it and placing it on the window ledge between you. 

Slowly, you took the new necklace out of its box and began to loop it around your neck.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ Natasha told you, looking exhausted and embarrassed all at once. She watched you warily.

You ignored her, finally managing to hook the clasp together. 

Then, you moved to stand behind her.

‘Lift your hair.’ You told her softly. 

Natasha looked up at you, obviously confused. You picked up your old necklace from the window ledge.

‘No.’ She refused as the realisation hit her. 

You stayed steady in your resolve, waiting quietly. 

Natasha’s green eyes studied you, she looked uncertain. After a long moment, she lifted her hair up. 

You looped the necklace around her neck and fastened it carefully. Your fingers brushed her skin and you felt her shiver slightly.

Once you were done, you rested your hand tentatively on her shoulder. Natasha was only wearing her black top now and you could feel the warmth of her through the fabric. 

‘Happy Christmas, from someone who cares about you.’ You told her simply. 

You wished desperately that you had written it on a card like she had. You felt exposed as your words hung for a moment in the air between you. 

Then, Natasha’s hand moved silently to cover your own, holding it still against her shoulder. Your breath caught.

‘You want some?’ Natasha said after a moment, her knee nudging the vodka bottle.

.

That year was the first time you didn’t have any place to be for Christmas. 

So, you found one with Natasha.

[halfmoonaria]

this christmas, without us

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: you and tara are forced to play the roles of a happy couple at the christmas dinner.

word count: 6.8k

author’s note: merry christmas!!

Tara didn't want to be there. Not tonight, not with you.

She'd been dreading it since the day Sam announced the Christmas dinner. The idea of sitting in a room filled with people who thought they knew the two of you, pretending like everything was the same as it had always been, made her stomach churn.

It wasn't the same. It hadn't been the same in weeks—not since she'd looked you in the eyes and told you the words she couldn't take back.

Even now, the memory of your face in that moment was enough to make her chest ache, a sharp reminder of what she'd done. You hadn't cried, hadn't yelled.

You'd just gone quiet, retreating into a silence that had spoken louder than anything you could have said. She'd expected you to pull away completely after that, but you hadn't. You stayed. For her.

Which was exactly why she shouldn't have asked you to come.

But she had.

She'd waited too long to bring it up, hoping—praying, even—that she could find a way to avoid the whole thing altogether. A last-minute excuse. Anything to save you from the act you'd have to put on, the mask of someone still in love when the truth was hanging between you like a storm cloud. But the excuses didn't come, and when Sam asked if she was bringing you, Tara panicked.

"Yes," she'd said, and that was that.

The alternative wasn't any better. Showing up alone would've only raised questions, questions she couldn't answer. Questions Sam wouldn't let go. Tara could already hear her sister's voice in her head, dripping with fake sympathy, every word a jab meant to land right where it hurt.

"Guess she finally realized she isn't good enough for you."

The worst part was that everyone would believe it. Because no one could imagine it was the other way around. No one would believe that Tara was the one who wasn't enough—not for you, not for the kind of love you gave her.

They'd all look at you, with your easy laugh and unwavering kindness, and then at her, the girl who couldn't even hold onto the one person who had ever truly cared.

But Tara wouldn't let them blame you. She couldn't. You had been everything she needed, more than she deserved. That much was true, no matter how much she wished it didn't hurt to admit it.

She thought back to the night she'd asked you, still sitting uncomfortably in her chest. It had been late—late enough for most people to be asleep, but she knew you wouldn't be. You liked the quiet of the night, the way the world slowed down and felt like it belonged only to you.

She hadn't forgotten that, even if she told herself she'd forgotten everything else.

Her fingers had hovered over your name on her phone for what felt like forever, the screen casting a faint glow in the dark of her room.

Calling you was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't have a choice. Texting would've been too impersonal, and not asking at all would've meant facing the group alone.

When you'd picked up, your voice had been soft, like you already knew why she was calling but were too kind to make it hard for her.

She'd stammered through her words, trying to keep the conversation going long enough to delay the inevitable. A part of her hoped you'd hang up first, that she wouldn't have to say it. But then, dragging it out only made it weirder. No one called their ex just to chat, not after ending things the way she had.

So she'd asked. It had felt rude even as the words left her mouth—asking you to do this for her, after everything. It wasn't fair.

But you'd said yes.

No hesitation, no bitterness. You didn't even sound mad. If anything, you'd sounded... calm. Maybe even relieved, though Tara didn't understand why. She'd thanked you quietly, trying not to choke on the lump in her throat as she ended the call.

If she'd dreaded the Christmas dinner before, it was nothing compared to now.

Tara sat on the edge of her bed, her room a chaotic mess of discarded outfits strewn across the floor. She'd started with something casual, but it felt too careless. Then something dressier, but that felt like trying too hard. Nothing seemed right.

Was she trying to impress you? The thought made her stomach twist, and she shook her head, trying to push it away. No, it wasn't that. Or maybe it was. Was she trying to look like she was doing fine? Like she wasn't crumbling inside every time you so much as glanced at her?

She caught herself wondering if you were supposed to match. The idea was stupid, ridiculous even—you'd never done that when you were together, so why would it matter now? And yet the thought lingered, a small, nagging question she couldn't ignore.

Tara sighed and stood, rummaging through the closet one last time before her fingers brushed something familiar. She pulled it out, the soft fabric bringing a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her.

It was one of your shirts. Dark green, fitted in a way that hugged her frame a little too tightly. You'd left it behind without a second thought, and she'd never returned it—never even offered to, though you hadn't asked for it back.

She hesitated, holding it up in front of her. It wasn't like she had many other choices; nothing else seemed to work. Maybe you wouldn't notice. Or maybe you would, and you just wouldn't say anything.

Pulling it over her head, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The shirt clung to her, accentuating her small frame. She frowned, brushing invisible creases off the fabric. It felt like a bad idea, but the clock was ticking, and she didn't have time to overthink it anymore.

With one final glance in the mirror, Tara grabbed her coat and headed out.

The drive to your apartment was supposed to be short, but Tara stretched it out, taking detours she didn't need to take. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she tried to calm the nerves twisting in her stomach. It didn't help.

She'd been the one to suggest picking you up. It made sense—if they thought you came together, no one would ask questions. And you'd agreed without hesitation, like you always did. That only made her feel worse.

You'd always been like that in the relationship, too. Agreeable. Too accommodating. Even when Tara didn't deserve it.

When she finally turned onto your street, she spotted you immediately. You were standing near the curb, hands buried deep in your coat pockets as snowflakes dusted your shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and you shifted on your feet, trying to keep warm.

She felt a pang of guilt. Had she taken too long?

As she pulled up, she tried to focus on the road ahead, but her eyes kept flicking back to you. You looked so... pretty. Gorgeous, even. The kind of gorgeous that made her chest ache.

But she wasn't allowed to think that anymore.

You climbed into the car, bringing a rush of cold air and the familiar scent of your perfume. It hit her all at once—clean, warm, unmistakably you.

You smiled at her, soft and unassuming, like this wasn't tearing her apart inside. "Hi."

Tara forced herself to smile back. "Hi." Her voice sounded steadier than she expected, but her hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Did I keep you waiting?" she asked, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

You shook your head lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's not that cold."

Tara nodded, focusing on the road ahead. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. She glanced over at you more than she should've, her eyes darting between you and the road. It wasn't safe, but she couldn't help it.

She hadn't seen you since... that day. She didn't let herself think too much about it, but the absence had been loud, impossible to ignore. She wanted to see if you'd changed, if the time apart had shaped you into someone she wouldn't recognize.

But you hadn't, not really. Your makeup was the same, soft but striking, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. What caught her attention was your hair—curled, just like you always liked it. She couldn't forget that detail, not after how often you used to mention it.

Her chest tightened as she pulled into the driveway. The house was already lit up, warm lights spilling out through the windows. Tara shifted into park but didn't move to get out.

When you reached for the door handle, she found her voice. "Wait."

You paused, turning to look at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

Tara swallowed hard. "You don't have to do this. I mean, you don't have to do things you don't want to." Her voice wavered, betraying the guilt clawing at her insides. "I already feel bad enough for bringing you here."

You stared at her for a moment before your lips curved into another soft smile. "It's fine, Tara. Really."

There was something in your tone—something that felt like forgiveness, or maybe understanding. Whatever it was, it made her chest ache.

You opened the door and stepped out, and for a second, Tara just sat there, staring at the space you'd left behind. Then she followed, pulling her coat tighter around her as the cold air bit at her skin.

The crunch of snow beneath your boots filled the quiet, rhythmic and steady, but it only seemed to make Tara's heart race faster. Her breaths came in small, uneven clouds of white against the cold night air, and the house—Sam and Danny's house—felt simultaneously too close and too far.

Her hand flexed at her side, fingers twitching with the urge to grab onto something, anything, to steady herself. Instead, she settled for another glance at you as you walked beside her, bundled up tightly in your coat.

When you finally reached the porch, Tara stopped just short of the door, her eyes darting nervously to your hand before you raised it to knock. The sharp sound echoed, muffled slightly by the snow-covered world around you.

The footsteps from inside were quick and loud, growing nearer. Tara swore she could hear her own pulse in her ears, each beat screaming louder as the steps approached. And then, before she could even register what was happening, your hand slipped into hers.

The touch wasn't firm; it wasn't clingy or desperate. It was light—practiced in a way that made her chest twist painfully.

Of course, she told herself, it was just an act. You were just trying to make it look believable for everyone inside, the story you both had silently agreed to sell tonight. But as her fingers curled around yours in reflex, Tara couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to hold on longer than she should have.

It doesn't mean anything. The words echoed in her mind, a mantra she tried to cling to as tightly as she clung to the warmth of your hand.

The door swung open a moment later, and Chad's bright, too-loud voice broke through the tension like a hammer.

"Hey! There they are—the lovebirds!" He stepped into the doorway, his grin wide and genuine, his voice carrying enough energy to fill the whole porch. "We were starting to think you'd bailed on us."

Tara felt her throat tighten, her lips pressing into a small smile that she hoped looked convincing.

"Never," you said smoothly, the lightness in your voice so practiced that it almost made Tara's knees buckle. How were you doing this? Acting like it didn't tear you apart as much as it tore her apart?

Chad didn't wait for more of a greeting before pulling you both into one of his signature awkward hugs, his long arms wrapping around both you and Tara in a way that left Tara stiff and unprepared. "Good to see you two," he said as he let go, stepping back and ushering you inside with a sweeping gesture.

Behind him, Mindy and Anika appeared, both smiling warmly at the sight of you.

"About time," Mindy said with a teasing grin, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her eyes flicked between you and Tara, sparkling with mischief. "We were betting on how late you'd be. I said fifteen minutes. Anika said twenty."

"It's seventeen," Anika chimed in, nudging Mindy with her elbow. "So technically, we both win."

"Technically, we're both losers for betting on their arrival time," Mindy shot back, though her voice was light and playful. She gestured for you both to come inside, her grin only widening.

As soon as you stepped over the threshold, the warmth of the house hit Tara like a wave—cozy and overwhelming all at once. She hesitated for a moment, letting you move ahead to slip off your coat. When you let go of her hand to shrug the jacket off your shoulders, the cold absence of your touch hit her harder than it should have.

The living room was just as she remembered, glowing softly with Christmas lights that lined the walls and a tree in the corner. The scent of pine hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of something warm and spicy coming from the kitchen. It was homey, inviting—and everything Tara didn't want to face tonight.

"Finally!" Sam's voice rang out from the hallway, and Tara tensed instinctively, her head snapping toward her sister. Sam's sharp eyes scanned the both of you, her expression hovering somewhere between teasing and judgmental. "What'd you do, get lost on the way here?"

Danny appeared at Sam's side, his easygoing smile balancing out her sarcasm. "Better late than never," he added with a chuckle, offering you a nod in greeting.

Tara risked a glance at you, but your expression was unreadable—calm and steady, like a mask she couldn't see past. She hated it. She hated how distant you felt even when you were standing right there, hated how you could smile and joke when she felt like she could barely breathe.

"C'mon," Chad said suddenly, breaking the moment with a clap of his hands. "Food's getting cold, and I'm starving. Let's move this along."

The others began filing into the dining room, their chatter filling the space and making it seem smaller somehow. Tara lingered in the entryway for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.

She glanced at you one last time, her stomach twisting as she watched you follow the others inside. The way you moved—the way you held yourself—felt so painfully familiar and achingly distant all at once.

Tara exhaled shakily, forcing herself to take a step forward. The night had only just begun.

The dining table was a mix of warmth and chatter, filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and silverware scraping against plates. Laughter echoed from one side to the other as stories were exchanged, and it should have felt cozy, comforting even, but Tara could barely breathe. She sat beside you, stiff as a board, pretending to listen as the others talked, though most of her attention was on you.

You looked so composed, so poised, effortlessly keeping up with every question thrown your way.

"So," Chad started, leaning forward with a grin that was far too wide. "What's next for you guys? Got any big plans?"

Tara froze, her heart lurching. She parted her lips to speak, but you were faster, the practiced ease in your voice cutting through before she could even form a word.

"Yeah," you said, smiling as if it didn't weigh you down. "We've talked about traveling a lot. We both want to see more of the world."

Your voice carried such sincerity that Tara almost believed it. Almost. The smile you directed at her was soft, genuine, the same one you'd given her a hundred times before. It sent a pang through her chest, sharp and unforgiving.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod along like nothing was wrong. But everything about this was wrong.

"That's amazing," Anika chimed in from across the table, her tone warm and encouraging. "You two would have so much fun. Where would you go first?"

"I think Europe," you replied easily, the answer rolling off your tongue like you'd rehearsed it. "Tara's always wanted to visit Italy, so maybe we'd start there."

Tara's stomach churned. Italy had been one of her dreams for years, but now it was just another casualty of the life you two had planned together—a life she'd ripped apart.

The guilt was unbearable.

But what shattered her completely was when, as everyone nodded and hummed in agreement, you placed your hand on her thigh.

Tara's breath hitched, the weight of your touch sending a jolt through her. Her fingers twitched at her side, unsure of what to do. But then instinct took over—old habits she couldn't quite let go of. She reached for your hand, placing hers over yours like she always used to.

Her thumb brushed lightly against your skin, the motion automatic and gentle. She glanced at you, mustering the smallest smile she could manage. It wasn't like the bright, radiant smiles she used to give you, but it was something.

And you returned it, your eyes meeting hers briefly before you turned your attention back to the others.

Tara wanted to crawl out of her skin.

When the conversation shifted and someone else started talking, her gaze remained fixed on you. She watched as the mask slipped from your face, just for a second, but long enough for her to see the cracks beneath it.

She saw the way your fingers fidgeted nervously, tangling together and picking at the edges of your nails. She noticed how your plate remained mostly untouched, the food moved around but barely eaten. You barely spoke when the spotlight wasn't on you, your posture sinking into the chair as the conversation moved on without you.

And Tara knew.

She knew you didn't want to be here. She knew you didn't want to sit at this table and laugh along with everyone as though nothing had changed.

And worst of all, she knew why you were here—because she had asked.

The guilt burned hotter in her chest, clawing its way up her throat. She wanted to scream, to stand up and tell everyone what she had done. That she was the reason you were like this, the reason everything was falling apart. She wanted to tell them she'd broken up with you. That she'd hurt you in ways she didn't know how to fix.

But she didn't.

Because she was a coward.

Because she'd brought you here for selfish reasons—to avoid the questions, to keep up the facade for just a little while longer.

The conversation shifted as plates began to empty, and the atmosphere turned lighthearted, playful. Someone—probably Chad—brought up the future, and soon everyone was chiming in, laughing and teasing each other about who would hit the next major milestone first.

"So," Anika said, her tone mischievous as she leaned forward. "Who's gonna be the first to get married?"

Danny chuckled, placing his arm around Sam. "Probably us, right?" he said, glancing at her with a grin. "I mean..."

Sam rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smirk. "Don't start, Danny."

"And the first to have kids!" Mindy chimed in, winking. "Come on, you two are like parents already. It's only a matter of time."

Laughter rippled across the table as Sam shook her head, muttering something about how she wasn't even thirty yet. The conversation quickly turned to Chad, who became the next target of teasing.

"And Chad here," Mindy added, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "is definitely not in the running for any of this since he's still single."

"Hey!" Chad exclaimed, feigning offense. "I'm just waiting for the right person, okay? I'm picky."

"Oh, we know," Anika teased, and everyone laughed again.

Tara tried to keep up with the banter, forcing herself to smile and laugh along, but she couldn't relax. Not with you sitting beside her, radiating the kind of quiet composure that was both impressive and heartbreaking.

The teasing shifted again, this time focusing on marriage.

"What about you guys?" Chad suddenly asked, his gaze flicking to you and Tara.

Tara tensed, but you didn't miss a beat, smiling politely as you shrugged. "What about us?"

"Well, you guys are like... the couple," Chad said, gesturing between the two of you. "I mean, if anyone's gonna tie the knot soon, it's definitely you two."

Tara's heart dropped into her stomach, and her throat tightened painfully. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, but you didn't react, your expression as calm and effortless as ever.

She tried to speak, but her voice caught, and it wasn't until someone said your name that she realized they were still talking.

"Right?" Mindy added. "You two are like grossly in love all the time. It's a little nauseating, honestly."

"What?" Tara blurted, her voice a little sharper than she intended. She quickly cleared her throat, forcing a weak smile as she tried to reel it back. "I mean... what?"

Her attempt at sounding casual wasn't entirely convincing, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh, come on," Mindy said with a grin, leaning back in her chair. "You guys look at each other like the rest of us don't even exist. It's adorable but also sickening. Like, give the rest of us a chance to shine, will you?"

Chad jumped in, nodding enthusiastically. "Seriously, you two are always all over each other. I'm honestly surprised you haven't eloped already."

"Or at least gotten matching tattoos," Anika added with a laugh.

Everyone was chiming in now, talking over each other, their voices blending into a blur of comments and laughter. Tara's ears rang, and she felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Her gaze flicked to you again, and you smiled—actually smiled—like none of this was bothering you. Like you weren't sitting here pretending that everything was fine when, in reality, it was far from it.

Tara swallowed hard, forcing herself to join in the laughter even though her chest felt like it was caving in. She clenched her hands under the table, nails digging into her palms as the guilt clawed its way back up her throat.

She wanted to scream. To tell them all to stop. To tell them the truth.

But she couldn't.

Because this was her fault. And she wasn't brave enough to face the fallout of her own mistakes.

The conversations blurred together as Tara sat at the table, her mind too preoccupied to follow along. She kept her eyes on her plate, pushing the food around with her fork, too aware of you sitting beside her, your presence filling the space between them like an unspoken weight.

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, catching the way you tilted your head as you listened to Mindy tell a story, your lips curling into a soft laugh at the punchline. It was the kind of laugh that reached your eyes, but Tara knew it was wrong. It was forced.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

That's what hurt the most.

She saw the way Chad playfully nudged you, Anika smiling at your responses like you hadn't just lost everything. Even Sam, as perceptive as she could be, remained blissfully ignorant. They all laughed, joked, teased as though nothing had changed.

But Tara knew better.

She saw the tiny details—the way your hands trembled slightly when you reached for your drink, the way you blinked a bit too much when someone mentioned something sentimental, like the future or happiness.

It was in the way you turned your head toward her just a little too late when someone directed a question at the both of you, as if you didn't quite trust yourself to look at her right away.

And it was tearing her apart.

Tara's guilt sat heavy in her chest, weighing down every breath she took. She had always prided herself on being observant, on knowing you better than anyone else. Now, that knowledge felt like a curse.

When you laughed at another one of Chad's jokes, she couldn't help but remember the way you used to laugh with her. Not like this—not forced, not hollow, but real, pure, alive. That laugh had been one of her favorite things about you.

She had stolen it from you.

Her hands tightened into fists under the table, nails digging into her palms, leaving little crescents behind. She wanted to leave. She wanted to stand up and pull you outside, away from all of this, away from the questions and the stares and the suffocating air.

But she couldn't.

Instead, she sat there, silent and still, drowning in the memories of what used to be.

Like the way you used to rest your head on her shoulder during long car rides, your hair tickling her cheek as you murmured about whatever came to mind. Or the way you used to hold her hand without thinking, your fingers curling perfectly around hers as though they were made to fit.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt that.

The Tara from back then—the Tara who loved you so deeply it scared her—felt like a stranger now.

Her eyes burned as she blinked back tears, her gaze fixed on the flickering candle in the center of the table. She had no right to cry. No right to feel this way. Not when she had been the one to let you go.

I don't love you anymore.

The words echoed in her head, haunting and sharp. She had said them so easily, hadn't she? Like they didn't mean anything. Like they weren't the end of everything you'd built together.

But they had been.

Her throat tightened as someone across the table said her name, jolting her out of her thoughts. She blinked, her eyes darting to yours as you turned to her, a question lingering on your face. She hadn't heard what they'd asked, too lost in the storm of her own regret.

You answered for her, your voice calm and steady, effortlessly filling the gap she left behind.

And that was what killed her the most.

Because she realized you didn't need her anymore. Not the way you used to.

But God, how she still needed you.

The dinner was winding down, everyone still buzzing with conversation and laughter as plates were cleared and dishes were passed toward the kitchen.

You'd joined the shuffle at first, picking up your share and helping where you could. But after a few minutes, you paused, wiping your hands on a napkin.

"It's really hot in here," you said lightly, voice even as you glanced around the room. "I think I'm gonna step out for some air."

No one thought much of it—Danny nodded absentmindedly as he carried a stack of plates, and Chad cracked a joke about the crowd being the real cause of the heat.

But Tara noticed. She noticed how your smile didn't quite reach your eyes when you spoke, how your fingers lingered on the back of one of the chairs before you finally turned to leave.

Her chest tightened as she watched you step out, closing the door behind you. She told herself it wasn't a big deal, that you were probably just overwhelmed like anyone would be.

The house was crowded, the air thick with the scent of food, candles, and too many conversations happening at once. It made sense to need a moment.

But a part of her couldn't let it go. What if you weren't just cooling off? What if you'd decided you'd had enough? Tara knew it was selfish—knew it was her fault you were even here in the first place—but the idea of you leaving, of walking away from this final thread of connection, made her stomach twist.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to distract herself by helping Sam and Mindy dry dishes, she gave in. She grabbed her coat from the back of a chair but didn't bother to put it on as she slipped outside, the cold hitting her immediately. Her breath puffed out in soft clouds as she scanned the porch.

You were there.

Leaning against the railing, your arms braced on the snow-dusted wood like the cold didn't bother you. Tara's steps were quiet as she approached, but the faint creak of the boards and the crunch of snow beneath her shoes announced her presence. You didn't turn, though. She didn't expect you to.

It wasn't until she was standing beside you that she noticed the cigarette. The faint orange glow lit up your fingers as you raised it to your lips, the smoke curling up into the night air.

She blinked, thrown off. You? Smoking?

The memory of countless conversations came rushing back. You had hated the smell of cigarettes when you first met. You'd begged her not to pick up the habit, your voice firm but your eyes soft as you reminded her how much it had bothered you growing up. You'd even tried to get Sam to quit once, though that hadn't gone anywhere.

"I didn't know you smoked," Tara said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

You didn't flinch, didn't even seem surprised. Maybe you'd heard her coming.

"Me either," you replied simply, taking a slow drag. You exhaled, the smoke mingling with the cold air as you added, "I took one from Sam's pack. Think she'll notice?"

Tara's stomach churned at the casualness of your words. She wanted to ask why. Wanted to tell you that this wasn't you, that you didn't have to do this—especially not because of her. But instead, she forced a small laugh, her breath shaky as she said, "Probably. She counts those like they're her kids."

You huffed a laugh at that, the sound dry but genuine.

Tara shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to ignore the way her fingers itched to reach for yours.

She told herself it wasn't her job to worry about you anymore. She'd forfeited that right when she'd said the things she'd said, done the things she'd done.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the knot in her chest didn't go away.

The porch light cast a dim, uneven glow, its bulb faintly flickering, like it was moments away from giving out completely. Tara figured Sam had been telling Danny to change it for months now, but of course, nothing ever got done until it absolutely needed to.

But under that weak light, you looked radiant. Your features softened against the backdrop of snow, the glow highlighting the curve of your cheekbone and catching in your eyes whenever you glanced at the cigarette in your hand. The cold brought a flush to your cheeks, and a stray curl brushed against your temple, no doubt loosened from the wind or your absentminded movements.

It wasn't just how beautiful you were in that moment—it was the way you looked exactly as you had two years ago. The same girl Tara had fallen in love with. The girl she couldn't get enough of, who consumed her every thought and who made her believe in a love so fierce it terrified her.

And yet, you were also the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

She swallowed thickly, her chest aching as the memories hit her all at once. She thought about how many nights she'd spent staring at you across a table just like this, thinking about how lucky she was. How lucky she had been. And now? Now she'd forced you here, to this Christmas dinner, just because she couldn't bring herself to tell the people closest to her the truth.

The truth that she'd broken you.

You were facing away, your gaze somewhere out in the snowy darkness, but before she could stop herself, the words slipped out, quiet and unbidden.

"You look really pretty."

Your head turned toward her slowly, the cigarette still balanced loosely between your fingers. The porch light illuminated your face, and it was only then she saw the sadness in your eyes. It wasn't anger, frustration, or bitterness. It was a quiet, aching sorrow that somehow felt worse than anything else.

"Please don't say that," you said softly.

Your voice was steady, but the words cut through her like a blade. She didn't need you to explain; she knew exactly what you meant.

Why would she say that? Why would she tell you how beautiful you were when she'd been the one to shatter everything between you?

When she'd been the one to tell you she didn't love you anymore? For all she knew, you still loved her. Maybe you were still clinging to what she'd so carelessly cast aside.

Her throat tightened as she looked at you, helpless to say anything else. She wanted to take it back, to swallow the words and pretend they hadn't been spoken. But it was too late. She'd opened her mouth and let herself slip, and now the weight of her own guilt was unbearable.

Because as much as she told herself she'd ended things to spare you—to spare herself—she couldn't ignore the truth.

She still thought you were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. And she hated herself for it.

The silence between you stretched out, heavy and suffocating. Tara felt it settle deep in her chest, wrapping itself around her ribs until she could hardly breathe. She'd made a mistake—again. Speaking without thinking. Letting the guilt spill out in ways that only made things worse.

But it wasn't just the guilt. It was the shame.

She hadn't even apologized. Not properly. Not for how she ended things, not for the way she left you to pick up the pieces while she avoided facing the truth of what she'd done. She had no excuse for it—only cowardice.

She couldn't stop herself this time. The words clawed their way up her throat, and her voice came out trembling, low and unsteady.

"I just..." she started, but her breath hitched. Her vision blurred, and she blinked quickly, trying to keep herself together. "I'm really sorry. About how things ended between us."

You didn't move, your expression unreadable as you stared at the snow-covered street ahead. Tara's chest felt like it was caving in.

"I just wanted you to know that," she added, her voice even quieter now. She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling, her hands clenched tightly at her sides to keep them from shaking.

She didn't know what else to say, how to put into words the regret that was swallowing her whole. Her heart ached with the weight of everything she couldn't undo, everything she couldn't take back.

All she could do was stand there, her breaths shallow, waiting for whatever you would say in return.

The air felt colder now, biting at Tara's skin, but she barely noticed. She was too caught up in the silence that followed her apology, every second stretching unbearably long. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and for a moment, she thought you wouldn't say anything at all.

But then you spoke, softly, almost as if the words didn't carry much weight to you anymore.

"I know."

Tara blinked, stunned by the simplicity of your response. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—anger, maybe. Hurt. Anything but this strange, calm acceptance.

You took another drag of your cigarette, exhaling smoke into the cold night air before adding, "I am too."

The words hit her harder than she thought they would. They felt surreal, bizarre even. As if this was the first time you'd been honest about how you felt since the breakup, but also the first time Tara realized that honesty wasn't going to fix anything.

Her throat tightened, and she didn't know what to say. What could she say to that? Apologies felt hollow now, and explanations were meaningless. She had already said everything she could.

All she could do was stand there, her gaze fixed on you as you leaned against the railing. The faint glow of the porch light cast soft shadows over your face, and even now, even in this moment, Tara thought you looked beautiful.

And just as beautiful as you were, the truth of it all settled painfully in Tara's chest: you were done being hers. And there wasn't anything she could do to change that.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy, like neither of you knew how to move forward or retreat. Tara's throat felt tight, her apology still hanging in the air. She wanted to say more, but her courage faltered. You stood there quietly, flicking the cigarette's ash into the snow, your expression unreadable now.

Before she could find the words to say anything else, the porch door creaked open behind her.

"Come on, lovebirds," Anika's teasing voice cut through the moment, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Time for gift-giving before Chad opens all his early."

Tara stiffened, heat rising in her cheeks as Anika's words sank in. She forced herself to glance at you, but you didn't even flinch. Instead, you gave Anika the same soft, effortless smile you'd been wearing all night—the one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'll be right in," you said lightly, flicking the last of the cigarette into the snow before turning back to the railing.

Anika lingered for a moment, her eyes flicking between the two of you like she was waiting for something more. But when neither of you moved, she gave a quick shrug and disappeared back inside, the sound of her laughter fading into the warmth of the house.

Tara stayed frozen in place, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You should go," you murmured, not looking at her. "They'll start asking questions if you don't."

She hesitated, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She wanted to say something, to break through the mask you were wearing, but she couldn't find the words. And maybe that was the point—there was nothing left to say, nothing that would make this easier or less painful.

With a quiet nod, she turned and walked back to the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. As the door shut behind her, the noise of the dinner enveloped her, but her mind stayed outside, on the porch, with you.

Inside, the world felt wrong. Too loud, too warm, too suffocating. Sam called her over, Danny was laughing with Chad, and Anika was already pulling Mindy into the gift pile, but all Tara could focus on was the pit in her stomach and the way her chest ached.

Her legs moved on autopilot, carrying her back to the living room, but her mind kept circling the same thought: she should've stayed. She should've stayed with you on the porch and said everything she couldn't say before. She should've explained why she ended things, even if she didn't know how to make it make sense to herself.

Because you deserved more than this. More than her selfish need to keep up appearances. More than her cowardice disguised as convenience.

She sat down on the couch, forcing a smile when Chad joked about something she didn't catch. She could feel Sam's eyes on her, like her sister could sense the storm raging inside her, but for once, Sam didn't press. The guilt sat like a weight in Tara's chest, heavier now than ever, pressing down on her ribs until it hurt to breathe.

She thought of the way you looked under the dim porch light, the snow falling softly around you, your features so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. You were the girl she fell in love with two years ago, the girl she shared everything with, the girl she said she didn't love anymore.

But that was a lie. A lie she told herself so many times she almost believed it.

She didn't know if she loved you the same way now, but she knew one thing with painful certainty—she didn't stop. And she hated herself for letting her fears, her insecurities, and her flaws destroy what you had.

As the gift-giving began and the room filled with laughter and excitement, Tara's smile stayed fixed in place.

But her heart stayed on that porch.

[loverafey]

you only feel it when it's lost  !   ex!rafe x reader.

          ⤿ synopsis : another year, another christmas, another fight. escaping your family, you decide to spend the christmas at your ex's house who's just as lonely as you.

          ꕀ warnings - angst, bittersweet, reader has a dysfunctional family, suggestive content in like one paragraph, they both are idiots. (if you get the reference of the title i'll kiss you) wc - 2k.

these days were supposed to be joyous, full of family reunions and shared laughs. that’s what people would normally assume to be the ideal day of christmas eve followed by the last days of the year, and you had assumed too.

it was easy for fights to break out in your household, one disagreement leading to another. whether it be between your parents or between you and your parents, it was as if they never took you seriously enough. a disappointment laying right in front of them, a mistake they mourned. the dinner table didn’t consist of your parents laughing happily while you’d decorate the christmas tree, talking about your friends, helping your siblings.

you couldn’t even remember how long it had been since you actually celebrated something with your family. or how long it had been since your mother woke you up with a kiss on your forehead and your father with a hug.

today was like any other, shouts and heavy silences lingering in the house altogether. you felt suffocated, too tired. your phone had been blank today, each of your friends busy celebrating with their own, resulting in no notifications. not that you wanted any, you’d rather be left alone. but why was being alone felt so ironically lonely?

perhaps, deep within you, you too wanted someone to hold you on this day. to soothe the ache in your heart that's been there for far too long.

there was only one person you could think of that would somehow be at home on this day. maybe not, but it didn’t hurt to try, even if it was a horribly stupid decision.

you had dated rafe for over four months, a rather impulsive relationship that had not only destroyed you but also the friendship that had been between you both way before the relationship. no wonder they said not to date your damn best friend. you wondered if it had destroyed him too. you couldn’t really blame him, not when you had a part to play in the relationship’s downfall too. neither of you both were saints, just too lonesome souls trying to find warmth within each other. which is precisely why your visits had never ceased after the break up, even if your friendship was long a pile of rubble. he was an angry person, so were you, in your own way. the very root cause of the pointless arguments that would rise every day.

sometimes he’d come over at your place, pissed off about work, wanting some relief, ending with you pressed against the mattress. sometimes you’d go over to him to feel something, anything, ending with his face always buried in between your legs, coaxing out cries you were desperate to let out. just like right now, your feet leading you to your car, the route to tannyhill ingrained into your brain.

it wasn’t long until you arrived at the mansion that was now owned by rafe, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you clutched the sweater around you tight, the night air as chill as ever. ringing the door bell, you could hear the muffled sounds of footsteps inside nearing closer until the door opened, revealing him — and fuck. he looked so cozy in that dark knitted sweater of his, clearly having just cut his hair recently since the last time you remembered, his buzz had grown a bit. you didn’t mind it though, nearly everything suited him annoyingly enough.

“hey, you okay…?” he breathed out, leaning against the door, brows knitting together as he took in the sight of your exhausted face and the very subtle sight of your fingers trembling, hidden by the way you were clutching your own sweater so tight.

“hi, yes…” you lied through your teeth, reaching within your purse to take out a small box that you’d made a few days ago, having spent the whole day contemplating whether to give it to him or not. “merry christmas.”

his eyes softened as he took the gift from your hand, untying the lace and opening it up, a bracelet made from strings resting inside, the blue matching the colour of his eyes. “is this some sort of appeasement?” he couldn’t help but grin, satisfied at the way you scoffed yet were unable to suppress a smile. shit, that smile — he’d do anything to make you smile even a little. just like the old days.

“nope.” you mumbled quietly, chewing on your bottom lip in a rather nervous manner as he stepped inside to let you in, the warmth of his house comforting. “i didn’t want to spend these days at home. can i stay here, at least for the night?”

bad idea, but who was rafe to refuse? he had no one to spend these days with anyways. sarah was with the pogues. wheezie was gone for the week with their grandparents while rafe had refused the offer with an excuse to finish all his work. the truth was, he didn’t have the energy within him to pretend that everything was jolly.

“of course, baby.” it was so easy for that nickname to slip every now and then, as if his tongue was made just to speak that.

he led you into his living room, no decorations in sight, just the same old. it was almost comforting. you sat down on the couch, rafe a bit far from you, the silence heavy. it wasn’t the usual comforting silence you’d sought out with him, no. right now, it felt as if you both wanted to speak of something, but couldn’t. your fingers were curled up into wrists, resting on your knees as you stared down at the floor, mindlessly analysing the texture. your eyes slowly drifted over to his shoes, and sneakily upwards to his hands, and then face, eyes thankfully not on you.

he’d been sitting this far from you on the night of your break up too. on this very couch.

the thought made you want to laugh bitterly, but all you could feel was the heavy lump forming in your throat like hands choking you. it hurt.

“any plans for the new year…?” rafe cleared his throat, hesitantly looking over you, only to find you looking back at him. his jaw clenched, hating feeling so vulnerable, so weak in front of your eyes. the same eyes that’d glimmer at the sight of him. he could have sworn they still glimmered. his angel, coming to his house every now and then with a scythe to reap his soul, which he’d offer so gratefully. his soul and heart had been yours from the start anyways, it didn’t matter, did it?

“no…” you swallowed, shaking your head. you?”

“nah.”

“wheezie’s away?”

“yeah, with grandparents.”

“what about topper?”

“just texted him, and kelce. didn’t wanna meet any of them.”

“oh…”

it was awkward, again, though you could hear the slight shuffle ringing in the air as he scooted near you, hands awkwardly tapping at his knees, as if restless. he couldn’t help but look down at the bracelet you’d made him, still in the box. his fingers reached out, unsure, grabbing the strings and wearing them around his wrist.

“it’s nice.” he said, earning a hum from you.

“we could watch a movie, y’know. a christmas movie.” his tone held some amusement, already grabbing the remote to turn the television on to scroll through all the influx of sappy christmas movies, most of them similar to one another.

“didn’t know you enjoyed those movies, rafe.” you feigned ignorance. both of you would spend the nights watching cheesy stuff together after all, it wasn’t easy to forget about that. you don’t think you ever will.

clicking onto some random movie, rafe tossed the remote aside and leaned back into the couch, watching from the corner of his eye at you doing the same. a soft melody played in the movie as the opening credits were displayed on the screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to watch the movie. he’d noticed how sad you looked today, hair messier than usual, lips chapped. he didn’t even need to ask what happened, he was well aware of how your family could be like.

rafe had tried to hold himself ever since you stepped in here tonight, but he couldn’t anymore. you needed this, didn’t you? the same warmth you’d always craved. one arm slowly wrapped around your back, pulling you closer. when he felt your body relaxing and leaning into his, he took this as a cue to wrap his other arm around your front, letting you fully curl up into him, knees pulling up to hug against your chest.

“what’s goin' on in that pretty head, baby?” he whispered, voice hoarser than before as the hand resting on your back reached up to gently caress the back of your head tenderly, with the same love he always held for you. shaking your head, not wanting to talk, you simply leaned over to rest your head against his shoulder, trying to hide the way your breathing got heavier with emotion, as if you’d break down any second.

“shut up…” you weakly spoke, closing your eyes and simply letting yourself feel the way his fingers raked through your way. you always liked the way he touched you, it made you feel so alive, real. “just hold me, rafey…” you, too, hated being vulnerable in front of him. though the world was against you both at the moment.

“do you miss me…?” you asked on impulse, peeking up from his head to look at him, eyes filled with unshed tears. his heart clenched at the sight of you, and he knew that he should deny so you both could move on and just forget.

“yes, i do. every day.” he sighed, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“me too.”

he sighed tiredly in acknowledgement, his heart feeling so empty yet so full, void yet on the verge of bursting at the same time. “i know, baby. i know.” he smiled softly, holding you tighter. you weren’t watching the movie anymore, content on nuzzling your head against his neck so you could feel his pulse, inhaling his familiar scent.

“want me to go over and make some coffee for us?”

“not yet.” you grumbled, not wanting to let him go so soon. what if he were to never come back and this all was nothing but some sick dream?

“fine.” he chuckled softly, shifting on the couch so now you were fully resting against him, legs hooked around his waist, clung onto him. he rested his chin on top of your head, gently rocking you back and forth, soothing you. “would you like to spend the new year’s eve here too?” he asked after a while, softer. he’d usually rent a yacht and host a raging party with all the kooks, but he didn’t feel like doing that this year. “i don’t wanna stay here… wanna go away, for like a week or two.”

“yes, alright…” you had already known the answer before you’d even spoken it, hands bunching up into his sweater tightly. there was no guaranteeing how long it’ll be after that until you both would see each other again, if ever, depending on what will happen until the new years eve.

you pulled your head back, eyes clearly puffy and a bit red as she sniffled, pressing a soft kiss right on the tip of his nose, causing him to huff as he tilted his head to capture your lips with his — a short lasting yet comforting kiss. exactly what you needed.

“merry christmas.” his hold tightened around your waist.

“merry christmas, rafe.” your hands loosened on his sweater, just a bit.

[wlwxreader]

Not a Crush

not my gif

Jackie Taylor x fem!reader

Summary: despite what the entire team thinks, Jackie doesn’t have a crush on you. So why does it make her skin crawl when she sees you flirting with a girl at a party?

Warning(s): jealous!Jackie, possessive!Jackie, oblivious!reader, pre-crash!Jackie, Nat being a little shit, simp!Jackie

Word count: 2.6k

Masterlist: tba

No matter how much the team teased her about it, Jackie Taylor did not have a crush on you.

Did she like your soft smile? Yes. Could she spend days on end listening to a recording of your cheerful and sweet laugh? Why, of course. Did her heart stop whenever you looked at her a second too long? Maybe, but it was only because she thought you were beautiful —in a platonic way.

She did not like you. She didn’t think of you every night before she went to bed. Nope. Not at all. And Nat could shove her own words up her ass, because she sure as hell wasn’t a simp for you.

Yeah, as if.

“Hey,” you waved your hand in the air as you walked towards the field. You had just changed into your football uniform, and looked around. “Is everyone ready for practice?”

“Yeah,” Nat said, stretching her arms. “We were waiting for you for like, I don’t know, ten minutes.”

“You’re the last one. You know what that means,” Van smirked at you, and if it wasn’t for Tai’s presence next to them, you would have walked over to smack them in the face.

“Gotta run for ten minutes around the field,” Lottie said in a singsong voice. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“I’m gonna get you, Matthews,” you threatened with mock anger.

“What’s going on?” Jackie, who had been talking to coach Ben about something, asked. Her smile grew a little bigger when she noticed you within the other team players, and you swear you heard Nat and Shauna giggle to each other.

“Y/N was last,” Nat said. “She has to run for ten minutes.”

“Okay, fine—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jackie said. Her voice, always soft and bright, was commanding. She wasn’t the Jackie who played around anymore, she was captain Jackie, and everyone in the team knew it.

“What?” Van asked, offended. They looked between the both of you, mouth ajar. “That’s not fair! It’s a tradition you started, Jackie. Last one has in the field during practice has to run while the others train. Y/N was the last one today.”

“Enough, Palmer,” Jackie gave them a stern look. “Y/N was late because of me.”

You gave her a surprised look, taken aback by her lie. You should not have been bewildered, though— Jackie always had your back no matter what, using her easy charm to cover up for your slip-ups

“Making out before practice?” Nat asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Jackie’s cheeks turned a bright red color, but she didn’t dare to look at you. Instead, she clapped her hands together a few times, and everyone around sobered up.

“Divide yourself into two teams,” Jackie raised her voice. “Whoever team wins, gets to rest while the others run a lap.”

Everyone groaned, looking around to start to form the groups, trying to be as equitative as possible.

“Shauna, you’re captain of team green. Team blue is my team,” Jackie called, and the brown eyed woman nodded, wasting no time to craft the perfect team in her mind as she looked at everyone in the field.

“Okay, cool—”

“Y/N,” Jackie interrupted her best friend. “You’re on my team.”

“And in her heart,” whispered Nat.

Thankfully, neither Jackie nor you hear it.

If Jackie did not like you, she obviously also didn’t feel any ownership over you. She wasn’t jealous, she wasn’t possessive; there was no point in being those things, as you were both just two good friends.

But sometimes, someone would walk up to you and Jackie forgot her inner mantra, throwing it out the window of her mind. The person would smirk and lean in close, feigning they could not hear what you were saying, and Jackie would feel something dark and uncomfortable burning inside of her.

Sure, you weren’t hers, but that didn’t mean anyone had the right to talk to you, so obviously trying to flirt it was painful to observe.

They didn’t have the right because— because— well, because she said so.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackie said, walking up to your locker. 

Her voice was high-pitched, and you turned to look at her. Anyone else would have thought nothing of her tone, but you knew her; it was the same voice she used when she wanted to be rude but knew she couldn’t.

“Hi, Jackie,” you said, completely forgetting about the man who was talking to you about the chemistry test you both had next week.

Jackie walked with purpose, and she stood in front of you. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her body. You sighed in relief; it was starting to get cold, and her warmth was welcomed.

The woman smiled when you rested your head on her shoulder, and big green eyes twinkling as she started the man down.

“What were you talking about?” she asked, even though she wasn’t interested in the least. She knew how men were— she suffered their unwanted advances on the daily. It was all an act to get you on their bed.

“Oh,” the man said, clearing his throat. “We were discussing the next chemistry exam—”

“Well, I hope you study hard. Bye.”

You barely had time to close your locker before Jackie was pulling you away from that man.

“Hey— Jackie,” you complained, pulling your books closer to your chest. “What was that for?”

“That boy is a womanizer,” Jackie said through gritted teeth. “He just wanted to get in your panties.”

“You think?” you asked, turning slightly to look at the boy, who was leaning against your locker and staring at you. When he saw you looking back, he smirked and waved. “I think he just wants help studying.”

“You’re too naïve,” the blonde said. “He has tried that same trick with half the school.”

“Really?” you whispered conspicuously. “I thought he was just being friendly.”

Jackie shook her head, leaning in to kiss the side of your head. Her arm was still around you, and it made you walk awkwardly. You still didn’t complain.

“Boys are never friendly just because, Y/N,” she said. “They only got one thing on their mind.”

“Kissing?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

Jackie’s laugh could be heard all around the halls, a melodic sound that carried you out of the building.

“Every year it gets colder earlier,” you complained, shivering slightly.

“Are you cold?” Jackie asked, finally pulling away. You almost moaned in complain at the lack of warmth on your side, but before you could voice your discomfort, a weight was placed on your shoulders.

You looked to your side to see Jackie’s team letterman jacket resting over you. You smiled, putting your books in one hand to put the sleeve on.

“Thank you,” you said, with genuine gratitude. Jackie shook her head, simply reaching over to grab your books so you fully put on the jacket.

“Wanna hang out in the field?” she asked. Once you had the jacket on, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders again, because she wanted to but most importantly, because she could.

“The one time we don’t have to train, and you still wanna go over there,” you rolled your eyes, but followed her steps when she changed course.

She laughed again, turning to look at you. With bright big eyes, and lips pulled into a tight smile, you thought no one would ever be as pretty as she was.

As you walked, Jackie peaked behind you and saw the same man, looking over with frowned eyes. As she heard you talking about your day, she raised her arm enough for everyone to see the back of your jacket, where Taylor stood proudly over her team number.

She’s wearing my jacket, not yours. Dipshit.

To say she was ecstatic at his scolf was an understatement.

Yeah, she thought, let everyone know she only wears my number. Let everyone know she’s mine.

That time, she didn’t try to correct herself.

“I think Jackie has a crush on me.”

Van, who was tying up their cleats, stopped suddenly.

“Uh?” they asked, blinking a few times.

“I—” you cleared your throat, your cheeks suddenly turning red. “I think she might like like me.”

“Oh, shit,” Van said, rubbing their face.

“Did— did I say something wrong?”

“Yes!” Van let go of the laces, irritated. “You weren’t supposed to find out until November. You just lost me ten bucks!” they groaned. “Thanks, buddy.”

“What?” you gave them a puzzling look. “Wait— you have bet on me?”

“No,” Van waved their hands around. “Not on you. On your inability to see what’s happening right in front of your face, to be exact.”

“Okay, rude,” you said. “I’m not that oblivious.”

“Oh, no. Of course not,” Van said. Their tone was laced with sarcasm. “You joined the team two years ago, and only now you have realized.”

“Wait, she has liked me for two years?” you asked in a whisper.

“Duh,” Van gave you a long look. “Jesus, you’re a lost cause.”

“Screw you.”

“What made you realize?” Van asked, with genuine curiosity. They put their feet back down on the ground, leaning over the bench to look at you.

“She, um—” you looked around, making sure no one else was in the changing room. Feeling guilty over spilling such deep secrets, you moved over and sat down next to Van, so no one else would hear. “She kind of lied, the other day. So I wouldn’t have to run around the field.”

“She always lies,” Van scoffed.

“Jackie never lies,” you said, firmly. You gave the redhead a look, one that would have been threatening if it wasn’t coming from you. “She’s an honest person.”

Van chuckled. “She will lie to save your ass,” they said. “Because she’s the fattest crush on you.”

“Fuck,” you whispered.

After practice a week later, instead of going back to the changing room with the rest of the team, you grabbed Jackie and pulled at her hand, forcing her to move toward the bleachers. She went willingly, allowing you to take her wherever it was that you wanted her to be.

She would walk through fire if it meant holding your hand.

In a platonic way, of course.

“Jackie,” you said in a serious tone. You took a deep breath, and stared into big green eyes who looked back with passion. “We need to talk.”

She frowned her eyebrows, quickly picking up on your mood swing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, moving closer.

Jackie’s hand rested on your waist when she saw you starting to pull away. She hated it; hated whenever there was distance between the two of you. She wanted you close to her always, holding your hand and laughing with you.

“I think— I think you might be interested in someone.”

Jackie gave you a puzzling look. Her, being into someone? Not a chance.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” She asked, as confused as she has ever been.

“Don’t make me say it, please,” you moaned, like a petulant toddler. “This is embarrassing.”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, can I?”

You looked away from her, incapable of looking into her eyes as you spoke.

“I think I might like someone, too.”

Jackie froze at your words. Her jaw dropped, eyes open so wide it looked like they might jump out of their sockets.

“You…” she gave a bewildered look. “You like someone?”

You nodded, and her hand tightened on your waist, as if she needed some support to keep her from falling over.

“This can’t be happening,” she whispered, closing her eyes. You gave her a concerned look.

“Jackie—”

“Is it that boy from the locker? The one who kept trying to flirt with you?”

“No. It’s…” you cleared your throat. “It’s not a boy.”

“Oh, no,” Jackie blinked away the white spots that were starting to form on her vision. “Nat? Tai? Or—” she gasped, looking at you accusingly. “Don’t tell me it’s Shauna.”

“Why would it be— No! It’s not Shauna.”

“It’s not?” she gave you a look. “Thank god.”

“It’s you,” you whispered.

“Me?” Jackie asked, trying to make sure she had heard you properly. “You like me. Me.”

“Yeah. I like you, Jackie.”

She leaned in close to you, looking at your lips. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for her kiss. Instead, you felt her weight over you, literally on you.

“Jackie? Oh my god!”

Safe to say, it took the Yellowjackets over a month to get over the little spectacle you and coach Ben had pulled off when Jackie fainted.

You had wanted to keep it a secret, of course— Class Queen and captain of the football team, fainting because a girl had confessed their feelings to her? The rumor would be too juicy. But you also couldn’t control yourself when Jackie fell on top of you, eyes closed and mouth open, and it took you approximately ten seconds to take all the information in before you were screaming for help.

The help came in the form of Ben, who had come over running. He frantically looked at the team captain, laying on the grass as you fanned her with your hand, and he ran back inside to get Bill’s help.

It didn’t take long for the girls to come out of the changing room, and soon enough they pulled the pieces together; your conversation with Van they had told the entire team (which had led to Tai waving around fifteen ten dollar bills around the showers), your nervous attitude over practice, the tension they had felt before they left the two of you alone…

“Holy shit,” Nat said, smirking as you tried to wake Jackie up. “She fainted. She actually fainted.”

The story soon spread, faster and more explosive than gunpowder around fire. Soon enough, Jackie Taylor’s untaintable reputation got washed away by the new knowledge that she was a hopeless romantic.

Two months later, people would still whisper about Jackie whenever she walked down the corridors of Wiskayok High School.

“You think you will still be Class Queen after… what happened?” you asked, taking notice of how many students were staring at the two of you.

“Of course,” she smiled that charming smile you loved so much. “I’m Jackie Taylor, baby. This highschool would be nothing without me.”

“You’re too full of it,” you rolled your eyes.

She wrapped her arm around your waist, pulling you in close to her. She kissed your cheek, smiling.

“It doesn’t bother you?” you asked once you reached your locker. “Y’know, everyone still talking about it?”

“Let them talk. They aren’t mean, anyways,” Jackie said, raising her shoulders. You gave her a look; she would never notice just how many people thought ill of her. She thought too kindly of the world, but that made it two of you. “As long as it makes them talk about how you’re my girlfriend, I don’t care.”

You put the books you no longer needed back into your locker, and once you closed it, she pressed you against it.

When her lips pressed against yours, you stopped worrying about the whispers and the teasing from the team; Jackie was right.

Let them talk.

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser — Scream Blue Murder

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.6k TYPE: Break up & Make up, Humor primarily, Light Angst(??), Argument Resolution, Birthday and Christmas fic WARNING(S): None ?

Excitement is bubbling up inside of Ness’s whole being. Maybe this would be a dramatic sentiment coming from anyone else, but in his case it’s not an exaggeration.

The cause of this excitement is, to others, a given. But again in the circumstances of Ness’s upbringing, a Christmas celebration with actual people instead of a guilty ritual in his head is unique. Because of the overwhelming pseudo intellectualism permeating his childhood circumstances (which, while, yes, his parents are well educated scientists, and he can acknowledge their acuity to an extent, a lot of their conventions were in fact arbitrary and ridiculous), Christmas was banned in his home. Among other things.

It was very uncomfortable in hindsight and this choice led to potent social alienation among his peers, and might have even contributed to the isolation he suffered in adolescence.

There were times where, for example, before Christmas break, his class would do gift exchanges. He wasn’t allowed to participate and neither was he allowed to skip, so he had to sit there every year and endure the whole process of disappointing his Secret Santa buddy by not bringing anything — which is humiliating enough — and then carry the knowledge that he’ll have to throw out what he got later too, if found. And to be honest, Ness was the type of person who always ended up being found out by his parents.

He couldn’t even play pretend with his classmates in peace when he was in elementary school. Looking back on it, that has to be a little excessive.

But anyway. Bastard München Christmas day trip with teammates and Kaiser’s birthday all-in-one combo. Yay.

Of course, there was a choice to opt out and go back home to see family, which annoying people like Yoichi took because he presumably has a support system or whatever, but what’s important is that Kaiser is here with him on this day.

Ness doesn’t need much from Kaiser to be happy, he reassures himself, just breathing alongside each other is enough. The reason he’s pondering this to begin with is that Kaiser forbade him from even buying him a present (Ness wasn’t so optimistic to think he’d receive one, but he can’t even give?) — again, a little excessive, but isn’t everything in his life…

Since Kaiser went over to your place last night the last he heard from him, Ness is a little surprised to see you standing with your arms crossed near the bus, waiting by your lonesome. No Kaiser in sight. You look a bit grumpy and disheveled, too.

Ness decides not to think too much about it as all the attending teammates start showing up one by one.

Even Kaiser, who has trouble waking up in the morning, makes it before the designated time somehow. Though upon his arrival, much to Ness’s confusion he doesn’t look as impeccable as usual, plagued by puffy eyes and a red nose.

Is the cold being particularly unkind to him? Ness tries to explain the sight to himself.

The second oddity is that instead of joining your side like expected, he struts up to Ness and stands there. His posture is stiff and his facial expression more irritable than yours had been.

Is Kaiser choosing him over you? Is this the so-called Christmas miracle his parents didn’t believe in?

Trying to seem casual and not unhinged with ecstasy, Ness says, “Good morning, Kaiser.”

“Morning.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” Kaiser replies in an ungrateful tone.

Well, he is not giving him much to work with, but all things in life come at a price. Ness doesn’t let Kaiser’s shitty attitude dampen his spirits. If such a thing were enough to ward him off, he supposes maybe he’d be in a better place, both mentally and in his career. But because he is who he is, he just lets his lips curl up in his usual turtle smile and stands there waiting to get on the bus, hands clasped behind his back as he gives off this vague aura of sparkling.

___

Kurona is sleepy.

It’s no good they decided to take off at five in the morning, but he can doze off on the bus, he supposes, and when he looked it up last night, it seemed that the drive would be long.

He is among the first to enter and sits down to dutifully wait for Hiori.

These plans are disrupted when you plop down next to him instead, but Kurona kind of doesn’t care enough to protest or ask you to move. You don’t talk with him much otherwise.

He assesses how comfortable the seat is while you untangle your earphone wires. It seems to give you a bit of trouble, but Kurona is too shy to offer his help, so he settles on staring at your movements deadpan.

Kaiser and Ness decide to take the seats in front, but he pays them no mind. Now that he thinks about it, shouldn’t you be sitting with Kaiser instead? He expects Kaiser to maybe make some catty remark about this transgression, yet it never comes.

Instead he peers at you from the crack between his seat and Ness’s in this unsettling sort of way. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, or at least Kurona thinks so, but maybe it’s his sleep deprived imagination. Besides, when is Kaiser not being creepy.

He crams his arm into the space somehow and puts up his middle finger.

You blink in surprise at first because of the sudden intrusion, then scowl and roll your eyes while Kaiser retrieves the offending arm and glares at you again.

“Stop making your rectal myopia everyone else’s problem,” you say as if this is some ongoing discussion and Kurona is catching you in the middle of a conversation. Which is kind of weird, since he’s pretty sure you and Kaiser haven’t spoken a single word to each other the entire morning prior to this.

“Oh yeah, and you’re The Virgin of Guadalupe,” says Kaiser with a hateful huff, before turning back around. Somehow he manages to put a lot of attitude into this motion.

Rectal myopia? The Virgin of Guadalupe?

Trouble in paradise for the couple. Tragedy, tragedy.

Despite the weirdness of what transpired, Kurona decides he doesn’t care and flutters his eyes closed without trouble. He dreams about riding a shark back to Japan.

___

The drive takes seven hours and less than thirty minutes, which according to the tour leader was ‘quick’.

Berlin seems greener and more cosmopolitan than Munich to Hiori, but then again he’s a nobody and he’s an expert in nothing, which he is also quite content with. The group makes it to the hotel they’ll be doing a one night stay in and there is scheduled rest time until some activities in a few hours.

Hiori is having to room with Kurona and Yukimiya, who decide to take it easy. In all honesty he’s a bit bored. His late nights staying up and playing online grant him immunity to this type of malaise, so he decides to go out and walk around by himself, possibly wander off outside even if it’s not the wisest choice.

This trek leads him down to the lobby, where he sees you having some long winded conversation with the receptionist. Though to her face you seem amicable and accepting of the outcome regarding whatever you were requesting, once you turn around so your back is on her, it’s obvious you are seething.

Out of boredom, Hiori approaches. Kind of gingerly as if skirting around a land mine. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“I got put in a room with Michael and Alexis.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

“No, it isn’t. I was asking them if I can pay to go somewhere else, but the girl said no.”

“Huh? Wait, why? Isn’t Kaiser your boyfriend? Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

“No, I'm not happy. He’s an ass, and he’s ungrateful, and he’s mean, and he looks like a mop. The first adult case of anencephaly, surely.”

Hiori blinks, continuing to smile with his insect eyes wide open and peering into your soul. “What?”

“It’s like a longer way of saying he doesn’t have a brain,” you explain in a rush. Then you wrap a scarf around your neck and move as if you’re about to leave the lobby.

“Going somewhere?”

“I will be back before the ‘activity’.”

“No power nap?”

“No.”

“D’ya wanna sleep with me, Yukimiya and Kurona in our room tonight? If you’re fighting with Kaiser and they ain’t letting you move.”

“I’ll think about it and tell you later, if you don’t mind.”

Hiori continues smiling, and sends you off with a smooth and somehow delicate wave of his hand.

___

Yukimiya is in a pleasant mood. Like, he’s not too happy, but he’s experiencing mild contentment. He’s also pretty sure Hiori is fucking with Kaiser on purpose, same deceptive and listless smile on his face as always. They’re kind of similar in that way.

They’ve gathered in a circle, the three of them because he doesn’t really get on with anyone else, waiting for everyone to arrive so they can head off to one of Berlin’s Christmas markets. Kurona is quiet as usual, not offering much to the conversation (though he doesn’t need to since his presence by itself is generally appreciated) while Hiori and Yukimiya talk. He’s not even sure Kurona is listening to be honest, but he wouldn’t blame him if he weren’t.

And Kaiser is glaring at the back of Hiori’s head.

“So they were asking to go to another room, but the receptionist refused, so I offered to let them stay with us. Y’all don’t mind, right?”

“No trouble, no trouble,” Kurona allows with a blank face and even tone, displaying his generosity.

Yeah, he’s definitely doing it on purpose. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been talking about it so much — Hiori must be getting a kick out of pissing Kaiser off. Yukimiya doesn’t believe for a second that he’s oblivious to the holes Kaiser’s staring into his head. Hiori is not stupid, and everyone can tell by now you and your boy toy have been having some kind of fight, and it’s obvious neither of you is happy about it despite clinging to the conflict.

Yukimiya closes his eyes and joins Hiori in on the blithe smiling ritual. Because he’s feeling pleasant today, and then he adds, “I guess if they accept, they can pick who to share the bed with.” Of course such a thing is unlikely to happen, but it’s not fair that only Hiori is getting to further sour Kaiser’s mood.

Yukimiya glances at Kaiser, who looks like he is about to shit himself in anger, for about a second and then focuses his attention back on Hiori in front of him. The sky is pure white and the ground is coated in snow. Today is a good day.

___

The Christmas marketplace afternoon is not turning out to be any fun. Gesner is regretting going. He’s sure everyone else is regretting going, actually — it’s like a lame school trip, but he’s not twelve anymore, so he can’t enjoy it at all.

There aren’t any baddies around to flirt with anyway, just mothers with children who probably don’t want anyone to bother them during the bustle of this commercialist holiday nightmare.

To make himself feel better, he engages in some recreational complaining about all the first world problems he’s had today while walking around all the vendors with the rest of the group.

“And I’ve got a crick in my neck because the fucking bus seats were not comfortable at all. Not to mention waking up at four is inhumane. Seriously, who funded this shit,” he says.

Grim has this solemn expression on, staring at Gesner with pensive sadness and a vague sense of understanding. If he were speaking to anyone other than Grim, maybe it would’ve been encouraging, but this is Grim’s default state of being and not a unique comprehension of how grave and serious Gesner’s frustrations are, so it’s kind of whatever.

“Also,” continues Gesner regardless, “Kaiser and the manager are being such annoying dick cheeses, arguing like little kids. Passive aggressive babies. Should’ve stayed back in Munich if you ask me.”

“So immature,” Grim says, still dour.

“I’m right behind you,” Kaiser pipes up.

Gesner clicks his tongue and talks over Kaiser, addressing Grim still. “You’re such a smegma too. Fuck you all.”

“Love is withering and fading all around on the day of the Messiah’s birth. How hilarious and yet poignant.”

“Seriously, shut the fuck up.” At the same time, “Stop talking about me like I’m not here you fucking lowlifes.”

“During my silence you will hear nature’s white noise as spirits mourn us in festivity.”

“Oh my god. You’re just saying random words, dick cheese.”

Gesner stomps away and gets lost somewhere else in the crowd. He doesn’t bother to turn around and apologize or otherwise acknowledge Kaiser’s existence.

___

It’s not the best thing in the world. Kiyora is bored, but he’s bored most days, so it’s not exceptionally horrible either. Even as a child, he wasn’t the type to get excited about Christmas, so there isn’t even any lost novelty. It’s all just bland and not special at all to him, though he admits he doesn’t mind getting free shit no matter the season.

There is an ice rink, so he thinks to try and pull off break dancing, but a dent forms in his plans when you approach him.

“I don’t know how to skate,” you say, in place of a greeting.

Not knowing what to do with this information and without seeing how it’s relevant to him, Kiyora replies with, “‘Kay.”

“Can I… Like… With you?”

He is annoyed, but doesn’t betray it with any unnecessary facial twitches or even with an attitude. Well, you’re the manager, so he supposes he can humor you.

He pulls you along with him, not letting you stay glued to the railing because then that would mean he’d have to be like that, too. Maybe if he were more considerate he’d be slow and gentle, but he doesn’t want to skate like that, so he just drags you along while you’re clumsy on your feet.

You don’t even chat. But it’s not uncomfortable or tense to be so silent — at least to him. Things of the sort don’t bother him. He’s immune to secondhand embarrassment and awkwardness. Besides, you’ve been in a mood ever since he first saw you in the morning and there has been no improvement, so he doubts you even want to talk to him.

Though the fact that it’s not uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s fun. It’s boring like most other things. Everything’s just boring to him most of the time when there is no conflict.

Kiyora flings you into a more complex skating sequence which without much of his support doesn’t work out and you end up tripping and falling on your face. Without a care or a second thought, he skates away from you while you groan in pain to try kick spinning on ice.

___

Something that Ness always admired in Kaiser ever since meeting him is that despite his obvious unhappiness, he’s in control of himself. He holds himself with dignity, cold and calculated. Despite everything Ness really likes that difficult and aloof personality, how he can’t get quite close to him.

But he’s just- different. Nowadays.

It’s not like, a new thing. Kaiser changes all the time, if necessary, an intentional change or a product of someone else’s prodding.

Today he is mopey, bitter and annoying even to Ness’s sensibilities. It’s a big achievement, all things considered, since at one point Ness considered himself impervious to Kaiser’s faults. But Kaiser… won’t stop complaining, won’t stop talking about you, and it’s walking on his last nerve.

Why is he so fucking whiny? Like truly, why? Has he always been like this and Ness just didn’t see it somehow or what? Did you put some spell on him to make him so desperate and pathetic?!

Even now he’s trying to help Kaiser ice skate and he just keeps turning around to glare at you and Kiyora and is overall not listening to anything Ness is telling him, plagued by uncharacteristic absentmindedness, but Ness keeps his stubborn smile in place anyway. No one can defeat him when he sets his mind to do something. Not even Kaiser himself can get in his way of enjoying Christmas with Kaiser, and that’s final.

Or at least that’s what he thinks until the accident happens where you slip and Kiyora leaves you there.

Despite not having the slightest idea, Kaiser lets go of Ness rather brazenly and tries to go and help you up — maybe with the thought this would be a good reconciliation opportunity — but follows suit and falls face first even harder than you did.

Ness stares.

This is it. A monumental moment, something thought impossible before, a mark in history.

… Alexis Ness got the ick from his beloved Kaiser.

Yukimiya ends up helping you up, gallant in a way Kaiser could only be in his imagination. Of course Ness helps him up anyway (such a good samaritan, considering his earlier epiphanies), and you two end up with matching scratches over your foreheads and noses, which makes both of you look about as idiotic as you are.

Ness is fuming.

But he continues to smile — he’s getting kind of concerned for himself if he has to be honest.

___

This marketplace has the biggest Christmas pyramid in Europe inside of it. It’s the kind of thing Ness used to imagine as a kid, so he owes it to himself to go in no matter what. There seem to have been a lot of ‘no matter what's’ involved for him today, as if he’s off to a warzone instead of a fucking Christmas trip with his team, but whatever.

Kaiser doesn’t even give the giant Christmas decoration a glance, too deep into his complaining to pay attention to much of anything. “I didn’t even want to come,” he says, amid the other problems he’s verbalized (except for the most important one, of course, which is that he’s feeling like a wounded animal over whatever you two fought about).

“Then- Then why did you?” asks Ness. Though he thinks Kaiser deserves a bit of snark for ruining the whole day for him, his confusion is also genuine. He knows Kaiser prefers to be in solitude on his birthday, and he’s not festive at all.

“It was just supposed to be different.”

“Well, um, okay.” Ness shuffles in place and looks over to the Christmas pyramid again. It’s gotten dark now, so the glow of its jovial lights makes it appear even more striking. You seem to be heading there, but Ness doesn’t think much of it, trying to voice a desire for once in his life. “I wanna go in and check out the wine.”

Kaiser narrows his eyes, then does his little frown. “I’m not going. Do I look twelve?”

Ness inhales. Seriously, he just wants one thing. He gets it, Kaiser’s having a shit time, but does he need to make it sound like only a stupid child would want to go after Ness voiced the simplest, most mundane wish someone could fucking have at such an event?

Does the planet need to stop spinning just because Kaiser is in a mood?

Huffing and scrunching his nose, he says, “Well, I’ll go by myself then.”

“Suit yourself.”

And he does. In a show of independence and perhaps spite, Ness takes off into a half jog and catches up to you. Kaiser is glaring at him from behind and he can feel it, but he doesn’t care. He’s sitting down next to you and having that mulled wine and that’s final — Kaiser can throw a tantrum about it if it’s so important. Outside. All alone.

God, he’s all guilty and pitying him now, temper fizzling out, but decides to stand on his decision to leave Kaiser to sulk like a scolded puppy by himself.

Ness takes the spot next to you after getting his drink. You seem a bit surprised by his appearance, but try not to let it show and he can still tell anyway.

He won’t ask.

He’s not going to ask what you fought about with Kaiser that’s got him all out of control.

Ness clears his throat and breaks the tentative silence with an awkward question. “So, um, are you enjoying the trip?”

“It’s alright. How about you?”

“Yeah, it’s been great.”

Wow, you two are such shameless liars. Bad at small talk too.

After the initial discomfort, Ness falls into a more normal conversation with you. The jolly music in the background is pleasant, at least to him, and in the avoidance of the topic of Kaiser, he actually gets to speak with you about himself as an individual. He realizes now throughout this that he’d almost forgotten what it’s like.

___

Kaiser’s skin is flushed pink, since it’s so cold outside, and his hair looks mysteriously even worse than usual, probably because of the wind. For someone whose favorite season is winter, it doesn’t seem to do him any favors.

Whatever.

Gesner watches, mildly disturbed, as Kaiser gobbles down his third bratwurst like it personally offended him.

He takes a sip of his shitty overpriced beer that he bought from the same food stall Kaiser got his dinner from. But it’s fine, he doesn’t need to sweat how he can buy the same brand from the supermarket ten minutes away from his house for a few euros cheaper, he has professional athlete money now. No biggie.

After some internal seething over this stupid beer he’s drinking, Gesner says, “So, why don’t you just apologize?”

“Apologize for what? I have nothing to apologize for.”

“Stop being such a dickweed. You’re making everyone uncomfortable.”

“I don’t care if you morons are uncomfortable. And why do you immediately assume I was the one in the wrong?”

“Well, we all know who the more reasonable between the two of you is, so I’m making an educated guess on who started it, whatever it was.”

“Nothing you ever do is educated.”

Kaiser rubs his forehead and sniffs as if the weather is giving him a runny nose, looking all despondent and offended at the same time. This is probably an attack to his sensibilities since he prides himself on being rational, but whatever. Gesner finds this whole ordeal so pathetic, and not in a cute way.

“Ok, do you seriously not care that you ruined it all for Ness? It’s not fun walking around with a wet jerkoff choking on his own angst all Christmas.”

“Listen, I get it, poor Ness. Whatever. But why do I need to force myself to act like nothing’s wrong? It’s my birthday. I’m not some monkey he hired to dance and smile with him if I’m not feeling it. Fuck Ness. Stop whining to me about fucking Ness. He can go fuck himself, no one made him hang around me the entire day if he hates it so much.”

Gesner rolls his eyes. “You’re so obnoxious,” he says.

“Go worry about how you hit on a single mother in front of her kid and the kid made fun of you,” Kaiser snaps.

Gesner takes one more long sip out of the beer can and stares up at the sky, trying to erase the memory of that incident from his head, while Kaiser finishes off the last of his sausage. He could abandon the conversation here, he supposes, go seek more pleasant company, but everyone’s always so acquiescent to Kaiser. No one ever gives it to him straight.

“I’m just saying- I don’t know if you get off on making yourself and everyone around you miserable or something, but this is ridiculous. It’s not making you happy, clearly, and your birthday’s ruined. Just make up with [Y/n] and apologize to Ness too. It’s not that hard.”

Kaiser heaves a theatric, long suffering sigh. “Fine. You’re right.”

Despite his bouts of pride and bullheadedness, Kaiser can admit when someone is making an actual point. Gesner never thought he’d be a name on the list of people who’ve schooled Kaiser, but it feels kinda good.

He picks his one liner to end the conversation, a final and critical utterance to symbolize his verbal victory: “Dick cheese.” 

God, he loves saying that.

___

There are so many fairy lights, it’s almost an eyesore.

Grim is walking around along with you and Ness after joining somewhere along the way since Gesner abandoned him. Woe is him. He cannot even shroud himself in darkness because of holiday beautification all over the city. Such merry roistering in a place full of crisis and misery, what with homelessness being so prevalent here. Exuberance can only exist and shine off of someone else’s back…

But Grim has always been fascinated by this sort of dichotomy, the way it follows all facets of life. It’s easy for him to apply his philosophy with its flexibility when he wants to see it, which is all the time. So he also makes everything about his beliefs all the time.

So, the fact that you’ve been having this relationship drama with Kaiser today of all days, intrigues him.

He lets out a bemused wail and clutches at his forehead like a maiden, halting in the middle of the sidewalk. You and Ness stop and look at him curiously.

Grim stares into your eyes. It’s intense, but you don’t flinch. Ness drags his shoe across the ground even though nothing is stuck to it and shuffles in place, jacket making noises along with the movement.

Finally, Grim places his hand on your shoulder, gripping tight. His declaration is dramatic. “You have a kind of frigidity I admire.”

You raise a curious eyebrow.

Grim continues gazing at you with his strangely wet, dark eyes. His pensive delivery continues. “Most people don’t have it in them to ignore and shittalk their boyfriend on his birthday, but you do. You’re coldhearted.”

“Hey, don’t instigate,” says Ness with a worried frown on his face. Poor thing, probably getting irritated that this shit keeps following him around, but what was he thinking going from Kaiser to you.

“I’m not trying to be cold or whatever. I just- you know, it’s about sticking to your principles.”

This isn’t helpful information considering no one knows what this mystical argument was even about. Grim doesn’t care what it was about either and Ness is sick of it, so he won’t inquire either in his hopes of cutting the topic short.

In these circumstances, the silence festers.

Your expression mirrors Ness’s as concern seems to dawn on you while you stare at him. “It’s not too harsh, is it?”

“Well, he wasn’t handling it well,” Ness admits.

“But what am I supposed to do when he’s not budging?!” You string the words together in a haste, fishing for sympathy or confirmation that you were in the right despite what seems like a vague amount of regret setting in.

…

Grim and Ness stare.

“I can’t just let him walk over me because it’s his birthday!”

They glance at each other then back at you and start nodding solemnly in tandem while letting out a few ‘fair’s here and there.

“Maybe I could’ve been kinder, but it’s a matter of principle! I wasn’t thinking clearly, since I was angry! It’s not like Michael is the only one in the world allowed to… to get angry and stop thinking straight. And we all make mistakes. Right? Right?”

The two of them still don’t even know what you did or why you’re trying to justify it so vehemently, but Grim assumes you’re more so reasoning with yourself rather than them. Ness displays the body language of someone whose skin is crawling.

“Misery on Christmas creates such a beautiful juxtaposition,” Grim says, wiping at his forehead again even though the temperature is in the negatives.

You roll your eyes.

Ness checks the time on his phone and fakes dismay over ‘cutting the walk short’ before suggesting heading back to the group meeting spot.

___

Kaiser would never admit it out loud, but he’s quite emotionally fragile and volatile at times. He’s been on edge all day to everyone’s notice, but now even more so on the way back, preparing to apologize or to beg if necessary (though honestly pulling out all the theatrics when wanting to reconcile in kind doesn’t seem like the brightest idea).

After some reflection, he has come to terms with the truth about the argument. Throughout the day he victimized himself in his memories, but it’s not the full picture. Of course Kaiser doesn’t care about painting himself in a virtuous light to his own imagination — being that he enjoys aggrandizing himself through malice — but more so to forget how the whole thing spiraled from a pathetic, wounded kind of spot in his psyche.

He went over to spend the night at your place last night, and then you were supposed to get to the bus before the trip together, but it didn’t happen according to plan.

When it struck midnight and the twenty-fourth became the twenty-fifth you were both still awake watching some pretentious French arthouse movie about an abused donkey which he pretended he picked out at random and not from an ‘intellectual movie list’ he looked up in advance.

Your alarm went off in the middle of the circus scene, and you wrapped your arms around him, gave him a few kisses on his face, then wished him a happy birthday.

Kaiser admits that his knee jerk reaction was irritation, but he held it in and granted you an awkward thanks, squeezing your waist as he returned the embrace.

But then you went off to get the cake you got him and his gift and he kind of freaked out. Not because they were bad, but because you know he hates surprises and he hates celebrating his birthday and why he hates being caught off guard so much to begin with, but went ahead and did it anyway. And, yeah, Gesner was right, he started it — he made some disparaging remark about how you should’ve known better and kept this shit to yourself.

You started digging into him too though, for his reactions, so he bit at you in response, then you refused to back down and it escalated into one of those things where it was more of an insult exchange than a real discussion. Many times you both twisted facts not merely about this instance of disagreement but about the relationship itself, petty and mean.

Kaiser realized he was being a bit ridiculous because he was goading you, and on purpose. He could’ve stopped and done damage control, but made the choice not to. In that moment he wanted to act as ugly as he could and have you accept him and love him in spite of it, so he kept making his own grave, and the more you mouthed off to him and dissected his faults too instead of just taking it, the more he felt hurt and rejected, and the more he lashed out as a result.

Then “Maybe we should just break up then!” flew out of your mouth. He accepted it with a sneer to your face, but really he knew it was mostly his fault, so he cried all night and choked himself before he ended up hollow and empty. He felt like shit and worse, he made you feel like shit too and he let it go on for too long.

He had his reasons for his gripes about the birthday celebration, but he should’ve communicated that more sensibly instead of expecting you to keel over and praise him in the face of his berating. His behavior spurred yours and your response to him spurred him to take it further, but it doesn’t mean he was right. All things considered the beginning of the stupid fight definitely wasn’t something worth losing you over.

But how does he fix it? He said a hundred things he didn’t mean last night and toyed with your temper, tried your sense of self-respect to try and fill the black hole inside of him, always seeking affirmation and reassurance. Please never leave me. Please accept me and coddle me no matter what I do because there are times when I can’t understand anything else. Please love me senselessly.

Which — apparently you’re not willing to do, and that was the cause of his whole dramatic distress. Though it’s probably a good thing how your love is somewhat conditional. Kaiser is glad, in a weird way, that you didn’t let him trample all over you without retaliation.

Do you even want him to try and make nice with you?

He can’t stop thinking about it. To whatever extent and in whatever way he’s capable of, he’s so smitten with you, but this isn’t an oopsie daisy situation where he can brush it off to the side and hope you can forget, what with how out of line he was.

It’s not even something he wants. He wants to say sorry and make proper amends after all this nonsense.

The group is making its way inside the hotel after stepping off the bus when he asks you to stay outside and talk.

You cross your arms and look at him, not seeming too pleased, but more willing to be in his presence than before. “What now?”

“I just…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks off to the side, ignoring your vexed tone. Despite his many mental rehearsals on the ride back, Kaiser never really figured out what to say. “I fucked up so bad. You were trying to be sweet and I acted histrionic and crazy and insulted you over something so dumb, just because I hate surprises and whatever else dumb reasoning I had. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Can we just… I don’t know, talk about it? I understand if you want to split, but I don’t, and I just wanna say I’m sorry for being unreasonable and… and fucking disrespectful and an ingrate too.”

A flash of surprise appears on your face, as if you hadn’t expected him to apologize, let alone to approach you first about it. Outside of that, he can’t judge what you think about it. His palms are sweaty and the silence, the longer it goes on, seems like it’ll crush in on him, a metaphorical weight, as if he’ll crumble under a mass of nothing.

“Oh, so you admit you were an ingrate?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an ingrate and you’re always right.” It sounds sarcastic, but he’s trying to have a sense of humor about it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the birthday thing too… I know you don’t like them-”

“No, no, don’t do that. It doesn’t matter how much I hate them. I could’ve said that like a normal person. Really. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, and… and, uh, I said some nasty things too. About you.”

“Yeah but, fuck, I was insulting you first. I don’t even care anymore, honestly. About you making me a surprise when I hate them and about whatever you said. I didn’t even mean all that shit I was spewing at you, I just- felt hurt and wanted to hurt you back, and it was fucked up of me, and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for hurting you by disregarding you saying you hate the birthday celebration stuff and for doing too much with the insults too. I guess, I don’t know, it would’ve felt wrong to me not to give you anything for your birthday, but I should’ve listened to what you wanted anyway. It’s not like I know what you need better than you do.”

“That’s whatever. I’m over it.”

Kaiser stares at you because he doesn’t know what any of this means. You’re not accepting or denying him, just talking about what happened, and your expression is calm. The circumstances are completely unlike last night.

He’s not good at this substantial kind of talk, so he continues to stare, awaiting some kind of divine sign like maybe for you to robotically announce you forgive him, then you’ll interlace your fingers together and run off to skip in a field of flowers together or some such.

“You have a runny nose,” you point out.

“I know. Ignore it. I’m not doing the cocaine sniffle anymore, it’s getting old now.” Kaiser takes a step closer — not enough to encroach, but still desiring more proximity. “Listen, you can throw me a hundred surprises if you want, or hit me or scream at me or insult me for days on end, I just want you to know I really do regret it all. And… Please, don’t let me go.” The last bit is humiliating to speak and his cheeks heat up accordingly.

You step forward too, in his direction, once and then twice, before leaning in to wrap your arms around him, very gently. Relief floods his muscles, which had been tense all day all over in your absence, and Kaiser clings onto you tighter, tries to pull you closer. In the event this is a parting hug, he tries to memorize this sensation. Your warmth, your skin.

“Listen, I don’t want to leave you. Not really… I just don’t want this to be a thing. That you do. You get what I’m saying?”

“No, no, yeah. No more of this, I promise. I want to do right by you.”

Kaiser feels surprised that he means it.

“I love you, so I don’t really want to break up,” you whisper. It’s not your first time telling him you love him, but this instance is fragile and hesitant as if it is a novelty, though to be fair hearing it from your lips always makes his heart flutter.

He kisses you on the forehead and tells you he loves you too, which he means more than anything as well. Kaiser doesn’t think he’ll be pulling that shit anymore and so lightly either, not when it could cost him so much. The two of you hold each other in the snow for a few minutes longer, not wanting to move and disrupt your own reunion.

Kaiser can’t help feeling a bit happy and self-satisfied since he’s prevented you from moving to fuckass Hiori and Yukimiya’s room. They were totally taunting him earlier and he hopes they never score regular spots ever again.

___

Today’s main event for the trip is visiting something called ‘The Christmas Garden’.

Kurona examines the flowers, because what else is he supposed to do in a garden? Meanwhile Hiori’s watching you and Kaiser, seemingly enjoying each other’s company again despite yesterday’s malaise. You’re even holding hands and all.

“I think they made up,” Hiori says.

“Yesterday it was a calamity. Calamity.” Despite calling it a calamity, he doesn’t sound particularly invested when he replies.

“I was telling Isagi about it over LINE. He was happy Kaiser got dumped, but I guess no. Must’ve been just a fight then.”

It’s not interesting since you’re no longer wanting to beat each other up with hammers, so Hiori redirects his gaze back to Kurona again, who’s watching the fauna in total disinterest. So then Hiori also fixes his face into one of neutrality and starts watching the fauna in total disinterest too.

They are so bonding right now without Isagi’s interference!

“I would’ve liked it better if we got to see sharks,” says Kurona.

“There’s an aquarium, so maybe we can sneak off there after this.”

“No, no. I mean here in the garden. Lately I’ve been getting really into sharks in unusual places.”

“… What?”

___

It's the 25th where I am now so happy birthday to Kaiser!!!

[flwrkid14]

The Batfamily’s Christmas List Tradition (and how Tim gets lost in it)

The Batfamily has a long-standing Christmas tradition: the List. With so many members in the family, it’s a necessity. Everyone writes down what they want (within reason, of course), and the list serves as the ultimate gift guide. It’s efficient, especially for such a big family, and it ensures no one ends up with seven pairs of socks or the same gadget twice.

Tim takes the list seriously. It’s his chance to ask for the small, thoughtful things he wouldn’t usually splurge on for himself. Things like:

New makeup brushes. His old ones are worn out and falling apart, and it’s not until he’s on a mission that requires cross-dressing that he realizes just how bad they’ve gotten. Having a new, high-quality set would make everything feel a little smoother—and maybe even a little fun.

Cozy hoodies. Between Wayne Enterprises business casual and his Robin gear, Tim rarely gets the chance to wear something soft and comforting. His favorite hoodies are all fraying at the edges, with loose threads on the pockets and fabric that’s stretched too thin. A fresh one would feel like a luxury.

A new game console. Tim is rarely ever not working, but on those rare days off, he realizes he doesn't have much to entertain him that's not work related, that doesn't require him to leave his nest. Plus, it’s a great way to connect with his siblings during low-stakes, playful nights.

Nice coffee cups or tumblers. His caffeine habits are legendary, but the chipped and mismatched mugs he uses don’t exactly scream "Tim Drake." A sleek, stylish tumbler or a high-quality ceramic mug would elevate the most important part of his day.

Random indulgences. Books, stationery, weighted blankets, maybe a nice figuring from his favorite movie, a cool gadget he wouldn’t think to buy himself—little things that spark joy and make him feel cared for, anything he knows his own parents would have never bought for him to help heal his inner child. He's never had the luxury of writing such lists before becoming a Wayne.

Tim doesn’t just take the list seriously for himself; he makes sure to go the extra mile for his family, too. He’s always had a knack for gift-giving, and he loves curating the perfect presents for his siblings. For Dick, it might be a rare vinyl of his favorite band. For Jason, an antique first-edition book he’d mentioned once in passing. For Damian, something handmade and unique, like a custom leather-bound sketchbook or a rare art supply. Tim remembers the little things—the throwaway comments, the subtle preferences—and builds his gifts around them, ensuring every box under the tree feels deeply personal.

But Christmas rolls around… and none of the thought Tim puts into his gifts is reflected in what he receives.

Instead, he gets tech. More tech. External hard drives, cables, chargers—things he already has backups for because, well, he’s Tim. He doesn’t need more, and he didn’t ask for more.

And the worst part? It’s not that they’re bad gifts. It’s that the family assumes they know him so well that they don’t even look at his list.

“Tim’s the tech guy,” they think. “Of course he’d want more tech.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s grateful, of course—Tim is always grateful—but there’s a hollowness that creeps in every year when he unwraps another stack of USB drives and ethernet cables. It’s not about the gifts themselves. It’s about the realization that the people he loves, the people who should know him best, don’t see him the way he wants to be seen.

In a way, it feels painfully familiar. Janet had always made sure his presents as a child reflected her vision for him, not what he actually wanted. New tailored suits instead of the hoodies or tees he longed for. Sleek, professional office stationery to replace his Robin-themed pens and notebooks. Vintage collectibles meant to sit on a shelf, collecting dust, instead of toys he could actually play with. The gifts always came with a message: who he should be, not who he was. And now, even with the bats, the gifts still feel like expectations—like they see him as "the tech guy" rather than Tim, with all his quiet wants and overlooked needs.

So, Tim starts dreading Christmas. Not because he doesn’t love his family or the season, but because it reminds him of how little they seem to notice the little things about him.

And maybe one year, he stops adding personal things to the list altogether. Maybe he starts asking for tech, just to avoid the disappointment.

But deep down, he wishes someone—anyone—would surprise him with a new hoodie, a weighted blanket, or a set of makeup brushes. Something that says, “I see you, Tim. I really see you.”

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 12 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi

part xii (opening presents)

“What?” Spinner asks anxiously. “Do you think it’s too much or something?”

“Um – no.” You’re definitely lying. You can barely see Spinner around the enormous box he’s carrying. You’re not sure if he can see anything, either. “I mean, it’s the last Secret Santa gift of the year. Go big or go home, right?”

“Yeah,” Spinner agrees. He sounds relieved. “And after what happened – she deserves something extra nice, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

You weren’t sure how Spinner would react to the news that Aiba and her boyfriend have broken up – or rather, that Aiba dumped him when she found out about the kiss. You know people who’d have been happy to find out that the person they’d liked from afar was finally single. But Spinner wasn’t happy. He looked so unhappy when he found out that Twice elbowed him and said he’d never seen anybody be that upset over good news.

Spinner stared at him like he was crazy. It’s not good news, he said. She’s really sad. Why would I be happy about her being sad?

Spinner’s a good guy, and you’re pretty sure the giant gift he’s carrying is something he bought before the mistletoe-day disaster. When you look around the ballroom where the party’s being held, you see a lot of giant gifts, enough that going all-out with the last gift must be a tradition or something. It’s a tradition, and you missed the memo. Your last gift for Tomura is small enough to fit in your purse.

It was hard to find, and you’re pretty sure you outed yourself as Tomura’s Secret Santa to Spinner in the process of figuring out what “video games” meant on Tomura’s list. Tomura apparently has a thing for retro consoles, and retro consoles only play old games. Spinner mentioned a game Tomura’s been half-assedly searching for since last year, and you decided to find it. It took a lot of time spent scrolling on Ebay and picking through thrift store discount bins, but you finally found it, and you even found an old console to test it on to make sure it worked. You were really excited to give it to him until you got here and saw what everybody else did.

But it’s too late to change anything now. You’re here with your tiny gift, and Tomura’s going to think you didn’t try at all. If he’s even here. “Do you know if Tomura’s going to be here?”

“Last I heard, yeah,” Spinner says. “He changes his mind last-minute about stuff, though. I can text him if you want?”

“I have his number,” you say. “I can do it.”

You can, but you won’t. You know Tomura hates parties, and you don’t want to put his maybe liking you to the test against how much he hates getting dressed up and going out. It’s what kept you from asking him yourself, even though the two of you have been texting more than two people who see each other every day at work really should. The only person who brought up the party was him, when he asked if you were going. You said yes, and then he asked why. There’s going to be free food, you said. And I want to meet my Secret Santa.

As far as you can tell, most people have at least some idea of who their Secret Santa is, but you don’t have a clue. Your Secret Santa’s never written a note to go with any of their gifts, and nothing about the gift-wrapping style – or lack thereof, with the first few gifts – has given them away. The only thing you know is that they haven’t been following your hyper-specific list to the letter. While everything they’ve gotten you has been on the list, it’s all been an upgrade from the versions you asked for.

So they’re generous and bad at wrapping gifts. That could describe half the office. You’d like to know who it is, and there’s free food, so you’re here. And if you might have dressed up a little more than you usually would for an office holiday party on the off chance that Tomura makes an appearance, you’re going to keep that to yourself. Nobody has to know. And you can have fun at the party whether or not he’s here.

It is a really nice party – probably the nicest one you’ve ever been to. The decorating committee went berserk, to the point where there are multiple live Christmas trees on each wall and food tables on either end of the ballroom, each stocked with its own chocolate fountain and champagne tower. There’s music, which Yamada apparently arranged for but isn’t actually performing. Yamada’s in a good mood. When you run into him while trying to grab a glass of champagne, he grins at you. “Next year. Acapella. Are you in?”

“Ask me next year,” you say. “Once the holiday spirit’s worn off.”

Yamada cracks up at that, snags two glasses of champagne, and speeds off through the crowd. You finally manage to separate one for yourself and get clear of the table. Half a glass of champagne later, you’re ready to mingle. Time to see if participating in the office’s holiday traditions as a way to make friends actually worked.

It feels like it did. People say hi to you, and when you stop to talk to them, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. You’re willing to admit that some of it might be because you’ve all been drinking a little bit, but at the same time, you’ve gone to office parties where people were drunker than this and still silent as the grave. Some of your coworkers have already found out who their Secret Santas are, and some of them are carrying gifts that look even more over-the-top unwrapped than they did when they were covered in festive wrapping paper. Maybe it’s better if Tomura doesn’t show up. You can find a bigger gift and leave it on his desk next week, and no one will have to know that you messed up.

You cross paths with Tomura’s friends here. They’re all dressed up, probably more than anyone else at the party, although it looks more like they’re here for a costume party than a Christmas party. “Like it? It’s an Enji’s credit card special,” Twice says, tugging at the lapel of his purple suit. “He really wanted Dabi to come home for Christmas this year.”

“Did you?” you ask Dabi.

“Yeah, but I brought everybody with me,” Dabi says. Everybody. Even – “Shigaraki, too. He hates this shit, but he never misses a chance to stick it to somebody else’s shitty dad.”

“It was fun this year,” Magne says. “Fuyumi made us our own stockings and everything. That thing was nicer than any of my actual socks.”

“It sounds fun,” you say.

“Could have been worse,” Dabi says. He glances at you. “What did you do?”

You didn’t, really, which is the other reason you’re here – Christmas alone in your apartment was fun or at least peaceful the first few years, but lately it’s been feeling lonely. “Not too much. I just slept in and then came here.”

Tomura’s friends exchange glances. “Next year you’ll hang with us,” Twice announces. “You can still sleep in. We always show up late anyway.”

“You don’t have to invite me,” you say at once. You must have sounded a lot more pathetic than you meant to. “And Twice, you probably shouldn’t invite me to Dabi’s house –”

“First, it’s not my house,” Dabi says. “Second, I invite whoever I want. The more of my friends I bring, the more uncomfortable I make my jackass of a father. As long as you don’t hit on my sister –”

“Come on, that was one time,” Twice protests.

“Yeah, one time too many –”

You sidle sideways out of the conversation while they’re still debating exactly how many times one of Dabi’s friends have made a pass at his siblings. Dabi probably didn’t mean the invitation. You won’t count on it. But it’s nice that they’re thinking about it tonight. Hearing it makes you feel a little better, even if it’ll evaporate well before next Christmas.

The party ebbs and flows around you. Sometimes there are people dancing, but other times, the music quiets enough to let people talk. There are fewer and fewer unopened gifts floating around. You see Spinner still toting his gift for Aiba, which means that Aiba’s either not here or he just can’t see her around the box. The latter seems more likely to you. She’s really tiny. No matter where you look, there’s no sign of Tomura.

You do find Aiba, though, when you stop by the chocolate fountain. You can’t tell if she’s trying to hide. “Hi,” you say, and she looks up. “He’s not here, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t seen him.”

“He said he wouldn’t come to it,” Aiba says. She looks like she didn’t sleep well last night, but her outfit’s on point. “I’m not worried about him. I’m just not very – fun right now. I only came to it because I wanted to meet my Secret Santa.”

“Really?”

“I thought the Secret Santa was going to be ruined because of – him. But then I found out it wasn’t him,” Aiba says. You nod. “And that makes it – nicer, I think. All the gifts I got were perfect, and none of it had anything to do with him. So there’s still one part of my Christmas that’s nice. I want to say thank you.”

Spinner had better have a game plan. “They haven’t come to talk to me yet, though,” Aiba says. She frowns. “Do you think they’re even here?”

“I know they’re here,” you say. “If you stay here, I can go find them and tell them to come over.”

Aiba nods. “Thank you,” she says. “And thank you. For the other day. That was nice, too.”

“No problem,” you say. “Just stay there.”

Courtesy of the giant present, Spinner’s really easy to find. You give him specific directions to where Aiba’s standing, tell him to take it easy, and wish him luck. As you watch him go, you find yourself wondering what’s in the box. Maybe you should have asked. It would have given you a better idea about the kind of thing you should have gotten for Tomura.

“Hey.”

That’s Tomura’s voice. You turn and find him standing behind you, a haphazardly wrapped present in one hand. You feel a temporary surge of relief at the sight. He got something small, too. At least you aren’t alone in totally missing the boat. But then you take a look at the rest of him, and the relief evaporates into something you can only describe as a kind of awestruck surprise. Tomura cleans up nice. Really nice.

Like the rest of his friends, he’s dressed up. Unlike the rest of them, he went pretty standard with it – black suit and tie, although he’s got a red cape around his shoulders. It should be incongruous, but he makes it work. He’s done something to his hair. Brushed it, maybe. Either way, it looks good. You can’t help but stare.

But even though he looks great – he has to know he looks great, right? – he doesn’t look quite comfortable. Maybe because you’re staring at him, and you haven’t said a word. “You look really nice,” you say, and a faint flush comes up in his cheeks. “I didn’t know if you were coming. I know this isn’t really your thing.”

“It’s what you’re doing,” Tomura says, and your face turns red, too. “I want to meet my Secret Santa.”

That’s you. You and your stupid gift that’s too small. “Right,” you say. You fumble in your purse and pull it out, then offer it to him. At least you did a decent job wrapping it. “It was me. I’m your Secret Santa. Here.”

Tomura takes the gift, then holds out the one he’s carrying to you. You did a decent job wrapping it; he probably needs both hands to get it open. “The wrapping on this looks nice,” you say nonsensically while he picks at the tape on yours. “You don’t have to open mine right now. You probably want to give this to the person you were Secret Santa for.”

“I just did.”

It takes way too long for you to figure that one out. “Wait, it was you?”

“You didn’t guess?” Tomura looks almost affronted. “I figured out you were mine days ago.”

“How? Was it my handwriting on the notes?”

“No,” Tomura says. He gives you a weird look. “I wrote on my list that I hate the cold, but I don’t tell anybody that. The only way you would have known is if you got my list.”

“Oh.” You would have thought the thing that gave you away would be bigger than that – like getting too familiar in your notes, slipping up and using his given name and not going back to his surname when you realized your mistake. “Okay.”

“You really didn’t know it was me?” Tomura’s stopped trying to open your gift for the sole purpose of staring at you. “I thought Dabi gave me away. When he was talking about how shitty I am at wrapping gifts.”

You vaguely remember a joke Dabi made. You really shouldn’t have had so much champagne. “Sorry. I should have thought about it a little more.”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Tomura says. It’s quiet for a second. “A bad surprise?”

“No,” you say at once. “A good surprise. But – you could have just told me it was you. Then you wouldn’t have had to come to the party.”

“This is what you’re doing.”

“I know, but we could have done something else. Something you wouldn’t hate as much.”

“I don’t hate it as much as last year,” Tomura says. He nods at the gift. “Are you going to open that or what?”

“Yes,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Don’t say thank-you when you don’t know what it is,” Tomura says. “Just – open it.”

You don’t have any idea of what it could be. You know Tomura’s gone through everything on your list already. His wrapping job is easier to get through than yours. You peel back the paper and untie the ribbons and find yourself holding a hat.

It looks sort of like your hat. The one you gave him. But you found that hat on sale somewhere, ages ago, and this one is a lot nicer. Yours is just knitted, but this one has a soft lining, and the fabric on the outside feels like it might be water-resistant. It also has a goofy little pompom on it, which yours definitely doesn’t have. This isn’t anything you’d have bought for yourself. But you like it a lot.

You look up, ready to thank Tomura, and find him staring down at your gift, unwrapped in his hand. “You didn’t leave a note,” he says. “I like the notes.”

You’d facepalm if you weren’t holding the hat. “I thought I would just say what I would have said in the note to you. Face to face.”

He looks up. You’ve never seen that look on his face before. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve seen that look on anybody’s face – wary, expectant, maybe surprised, maybe hopeful. You should have planned what you were going to say a little better. Before you can say anything, though, Tomura speaks up. “How did you know about this game? I’ve been looking for it. Where did you even find it?”

“I found it on Ebay,” you say. “It wouldn’t have shipped in time, so I picked it up in person. I made sure to test it. It works. And as far as finding out about it – I asked Spinner about the kind of games you liked. I wanted to get it right.”

“I half-assed my list. Why would you try that hard?”

“I just – I don’t know,” you say. “I know Toga kind of bullied you into doing this. I wanted you to get something nice out of it. Sad Christmas might make more sense to you – and me, sometimes – but I thought it would be nice for you to have a happy one.”

That was a dumb thing to say. Tomura hasn’t told you a lot about his background – you’ve really only gotten close recently – but what you know isn’t good. It’s dumb of you to think that one video game and a handful of other gifts could rewrite any of that. You avert your eyes in a hurry. “Thank you for the hat. I didn’t mean to make you go off-list.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Tomura says. “I just thought you needed a new one. Since I’m keeping yours.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You are?”

“If you weren’t lying when you said it looked okay,” Tomura says. His hand brushes against your jaw, then applies pressure, turning you back to face him. He looks almost frustrated, but his face is flushed in a way you recognize. “And if you like me.”

“Do you like me?” you ask without thinking, and Tomura kisses you.

You’ve been regretting not giving him a real kiss under the mistletoe at work, but now you think it’s for the best that you didn’t. You haven’t had very many good first kisses, and you want a chance to savor this one. You wrap one arm around Tomura’s waist and pull him a little closer, and even though he startles, he keeps kissing you. He’s not hesitant, so you aren’t, either. There’s no way you’re going to be the first one to pull away.

When you do separate, it’s at the same time, and for what you’re pretty sure is the same reason. The music’s kicked back up. “Is that the stupid Grinch song?” Tomura asks, and you nod. He’s ever so slightly out of breath. He looks kind of flustered, but not nearly as much as you want him to. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“I mean, I could always sing All I Want For Christmas Is You again –” You see the face Tomura’s making. “I’m kidding. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care,” Tomura says. He unwraps your hand from around his waist, then keeps holding it as he leads you towards the doors. “It doesn’t matter, if you’re coming with me.”

The wind hits you in a sharp blast as soon as you’re outside, and you pull your new hat on one-handed. “Maybe somewhere warm?”

Tomura pulls on your hand, and when you turn towards him, he kisses you again. Now that you’ve got both your hands free and you’re not in the middle of a crowd, you can kiss him how you want to – one arm around his waist, your other hand gathering up a few strands of his hair. Tomura’s breath catches, and a moment later, so does yours, and although it takes a while for you to separate again, you’re both out of breath when you do.

Tomura doesn’t go far. His arms are tight around you, and when he answers a question you’ve almost forgotten, you can feel his breath against your skin. “I’m warm enough.”

the end

<- part xi

[thedisc0spider]

Hi I have a Spencer request🙏 maybe either reader meeting his family or Spencer meeting reader's family and they're all giving them like knowing glances and talking about how cute they are and their family think they're just like the coolest❤️❤️

Seasons Greetings

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Summary: the request BUT in honor of the holiday season I have made it Christmas

Warnings: fem!reader, Christmas?, reader has the perfect family of our dreams so… sorry..😢

Genre: fluffy Christmas :)

Point of view: 2nd person

A/n: I have decided to reappear for the holidays… I’ve missed you guys AH! Finally doing requests like I promised to a month ago…😅 lmk if I should do a part two of the next day? Could be cute idk

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Working at Smosh is great, so is working with your boyfriend, you essentially get to hang out and play games with the person you care for the absolute most.

Being an actor was always your dream, so having a steady acting job that also allows time for auditions on the side is perfect.

However, the one downside of working at smosh with your boyfriend is that your family already has… an idea of Spencer.

Would you say that you’re embarrassed? Absolutely not, you’ve always loved his humor, it was one of your favorite things about Spencer since the moment you met. In fact, it made you fall in love with him.

This isn’t the first impression you had hoped for though, neither you nor Spencer had control over their idea of him thus far due to the fact that you both weren’t even in the room when the first impression occurred.

countless nights you had spent awake at ungodly hours watching every video with you or Spencer from the point of view of your family.

Maybe this was obsessive and absolutely insane, but you couldn’t help it. Spencer had no idea about this, and you had no intention of telling him either.

Now, Spencer was coming to meet your family properly this Christmas, which was so wonderful and exciting yet terrifying and nerve wracking.

Your mother had promised you over the phone that they hadn’t all formed an opinion on him already, but you knew better than that.

Knock, knock.

You make your way towards the door, opening it to a smiling Spencer with takeout in hand. You smile back at him, anxiety seemingly dissipating out of your being at the sight.

Later into the night, you and Spencer were curled up on the couch, eating Chinese food, which is now placed on the coffee table, and watching “Family Guy” (his choice). His hand gently ran up and down against your arm while his head nuzzled against your neck.

“Only two days until Christmas.” Spencer stated, moving to look over at you. He studied your expression, it was hard to tell what you were feeling.

You nod, “I know, are you excited to finally meet my family?” You say this in a joking tone, but a part of you is searching for a real answer.

He adjusts his glasses slightly before speaking, “well, if they’re anything like you, then no.” This lightened your mood, while also getting an eye roll out of you.

Both of your laughs echo through your apartment, you push him off of you playfully. “No- okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He laughs, pulling you back towards him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Okay, you want my serious answer?”

You nod.

“Yes, I am excited, if not a little frightened to be completely honest.” He admits.

You shake your head, running your fingers gently through his curls. “Spence, you don’t have to be scared. My mom loves everyone and my dad pretty much thinks you’re the funniest guy alive already.”

Spencer tilts his head, “he does?“

“Yeah.”

“Has he, like… watched our videos?” You could tell this freaked Spencer out a little, one could only imagine which insane jokes he was beginning to regret.

You didn’t want to bring it up or say anything, this was supposed to be something you exclusively stressed about. You knew the second Spencer heard this he would start overthinking.

“Hey, I know that look. Stop it. Yes, they all watch the channels. They really do seem to love it, though.” You scoot closer to him, tucking your legs under you so you can face him. “You will see, my brother is just like me, they’re used to the humor.”

He still looks stunned, despite your reassurance. “Yeah, okay.”

You let out a sympathetic laugh, “aw, buddy, I promise it’s gonna go fine.” You pull his head into your chest, rubbing his back to comfort him, the last thing you wanted was for him to get into his own head.

“Why do I have to make so many misogynistic jokes?” He sigh, laughing at his own immaturity.

“They know it isn’t real, it’s very obvious. Besides, we can worry about that in a few days. For now let’s just relax.”

-time skip, Christmas Eve-

You arrived at your parents house in the evening, the chill breeze hitting your cheeks as you stepped out of your car. Your scarf was assisting in keeping your face warm, although it did not quite suffice.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, closed the car door behind you just as he had opened it before to let you out. As you made your way up the door, Spencer’s grip tightened around your hand.

You knock, this is it.

Your mother pulls the both of you in for a tight hug, something Spencer hadn’t expected by the look of his eyes widening.

“Oh, you must be Spencer! It’s so good to see you both!” She holds on for a bit too long, “don’t be shy, come in! Oh, (y/n), I have so much to tell you about your aunt Carol! Her hair is bright purple.” She looked at you like it was the most serious news she’d ever relayed.

You chuckle, looking back at Spencer. “It’s nice to see you too, mom.” You guide Spencer into the warm house.

“Thank you so much for having me, you have a lovely home.” Spencer says with a nervous smile.

“Oh, don’t be so formal! Spencer, why don’t you go into the living room, I need (y/n)’s help in the kitchen.” She begins pulling you away as you shoot your boyfriend an apologetic yet reassuring look.

Spencer was now stranded, he sat on your parent’s couch hesitantly. He didn’t want to see like he was making himself too at home. For a few minutes alone, Spencer pondered his next interactions with your family.

He was interrupted when a large man entered the room, “my boy!” Spencer looked around as to say ‘who, me?’ And once he realized he was the only one in the room he stood. “Well, I assume you’re the famous Spencer Agnew? The one dating my daughter?”

Spencer immediately swallowed, now realizing that he was meeting your father for the first time. “Oh- yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” He nodded.

Your father approached Spencer, towering over him, as most do. Spencer looked up at the man, he reached out his hand to shake. Spencer immediately reciprocated.

“Nice to meet you too, although I feel like I already have. I’ve seen the videos, you’re a funny kid.” He plops onto the couch, putting his feet up on the ottoman.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Spencer smiles, gently sitting down on the sofa as well.

An awkward silence.

Spencer searches for something to say, anything. He hates when his mind goes blank during conversation, which never happens when he’s comfortable and with people he knows well, he is not used to this.

“So, the weather-“

“Okay, dinner is ready.”

Saved by the bell, you and your boyfriend sit around the table with your family. Your younger brother now joins you for the meal, steak and potatoes.

“This is really good, mom.” You compliment her before taking a sip of your wine. You ask your brother, “how’s school?”

“Pretty good, Jeremy finally traded me that Pokémon card I wanted.” Before you know it, him and Spencer are engaged in a thrilling conversation, ending in him promising to look at your brother’s card collection after dinner.

You can see in your father’s eyes how much he admires the fact that Spencer is entertaining this, your brother was hard to get along with so when he likes someone it’s meaningful. Not many people are willing to accommodate his special interests and demanding attitude, but Spencer had always been very patient with children… and with you.

“So, you two met through work? That’s how your grandparents met, you know. They always said ‘if you can work together without killing each other, you’re ready for marriage.’ Oh, I can just picture you walking down the aisle in that dress you cut out in that little scrap book of yours. I know, I said I wouldn’t snoop anymore but I can’t help it! Besides, it would look beautiful on you. Speaking of weddings, did you get the invitation for your cousin Linda’s engagement party? Guess who she didn’t invite? Aunt Jane! Oh, I still just have so much to tell you, but I digress. Honey, could you pass me the salt?”

The other four of you at the table exchanged glances for a moment, holding in your laughs. Your mother had always been a rambler, it was nice to get Spencer in on that family inside-joke now.

After dinner, and the Pokémon card museum, you both unloaded your luggage with the help of your father and headed upstairs toward your childhood room.

As you said goodnight to your parents, You felt a weight lift off. It’s over, and it went amazingly.

You and Spencer were alone now, you looked at each other and both sighed. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, you’re right,” he brings you in for an embrace, “that went super well. Thanks for bringing me.”

“Of course, Spence. I feel closer to you now that I’ve shown you a big part of my life.” You pull away, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Me too, that was fun.” His gaze shifts to the room around you. “It might be hard for the both of us to fit in that twin bed though.”

You grimace, “yeah, I didn’t think about that…”

Spencer makes his way through the room, studying each surface. “What’s this? Ooo, the famous wedding scrapbook!” He smirks at you, giggling to himself.

“Spencer, put that down! I’m serious.”

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | All Yours

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around continues, this is just a very soft little holiday gift from me to you, San remains the sweetest and OC remains fully whipped for him Word Count: about 900 words Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: All San wants for Christmas is Noona 🥰 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season if you celebrate and if you don't then I hope you have a lovely day ❄️

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It's late on Christmas Eve when the last of your family finally leaves, and you can excuse yourself from your parents and lock yourself in your bedroom. It's late, so late that you consider for a moment not calling, but you're pretty sure San's still up. He'd made you promise him several times that you would call him today. But you've been too busy dealing with nosy aunts and loud cousins at the family party to do it any earlier.

It's late, but it doesn't matter. He's as happy to see you as you are him, his dark eyes crinkling in delight, and then his smile turns shy, like he's embarrassed at how much just the sight of you lights him up inside.

There's no reason for him to be embarrassed. Your glow mirrors his.

You don't want to hang up long enough to wash your face, so he joins you at the sink. You glance at the screen while drying your face to see him delicately scrubbing his skin with sudsy fingertips, and he sees you and pulls a face, making you giggle. It almost feels like a normal night, hanging out together. Almost. You sigh.

"I miss you."

San surprises you by looking surprised at your admission.

"What? Is that news to you?" It shouldn't be. The two of you haven't stopped texting since you'd left the apartment three days ago to head home for Christmas. San and his sister had left as well to have a quiet holiday with their parents. Since then, you've had to invent a million excuses to slip away from your family and disappear into your phone. The device has barely left your hand, every alert making your heart jump, knowing San is thinking about you as much as you're thinking about him.

"No," San scoffs, face relaxing into a pleased expression, a soft half-smile that fully melts your heart. "Of course you miss me. I'm amazing."

"Nah, I changed my mind, I don't miss you," you say, pretending to frown, and San plays along, pouting dramatically, and you can't help but sigh again. "Okay, fine, I do."

"You always give in to me so easy, Noona," he informs you, that spark back in his eye, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I think I’m your weakness."

He's joking, except maybe he's not, and you both know it. You settle in your bed, burrowing under the layers of covers, shivering because your personal heater is several hundred miles away. San does the same, lying on his side as he gazes into the phone, humming lightly. If you close your eyes, it’s like he’s lying right beside you.

The two of you chat a little about your days. His was spent watching holiday movies with Hanuel while his parents prepared a big dinner together for the four of them. You talk a little about your extended family and the chaos they brought to your house today. 

This is the happiest you’ve felt all day. Even when having fun with your family earlier, you’d felt a little off, like something was missing. Making San laugh now, watching those delicate lines around his eyes crinkle with joy, fills you with such a strong contentment that you can’t stop smiling. 

San’s laughter turns to amused hums the longer you talk, and he nestles lower and lower into his pillow until his eyes are struggling to stay open. You don’t even bother to finish your story, too busy adoring the sight of him. 

"Go to sleep, San. Or Santa won't bring you what you wanted."

“Mmm,” he yawns, pressing one hand over his mouth, “but Noona, all I want is you.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” you roll your eyes, giggling.

“It’s true,” he protests, quickly growing serious, “it’s true, though. I wish you were here right now.” 

You sigh. “Stop making me miss you so much.”

Both of you fall silent, watching each other through the phone. There’s a tension now, and it makes you nervous for some reason, and there’s only one thing you can think to say to clear the air. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, but it’s the truth and you really want to share it all of a sudden.

“You already have me, you know.” 

You’ve known for weeks now. Weeks full of longing glances, lingering touches, and hurried kisses -  and sometimes more, in the rare moments the two of you had the apartment to yourselves. It’s time to admit it.

San takes your confession with a long silence of his own. Just when you think you’re about to have a cardiac event waiting for his response, he speaks. “I do?”

You nod. “If you want me. I’m all yours.” Can he hear your heart pounding through the phone?

San exhales quickly. “Mine.”

It’s an agreement. A declaration. 

He traces his finger down his screen, pretending he’s stroking your cheek, and your skin buzzes from the mere suggestion. A warmth like you've never felt before spreads over you, soft and tender, so like the man gazing at you through the phone. 

Tiredness begins to tug at you. Only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, then one more ‘til you’re back home.

And back in San’s arms. 

"Merry Christmas, San," you whisper.

"Merry Christmas," he echoes softly. "Sweet dreams, Noona."

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[chrystal-ink]

Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!

Shadow X GN Reader

Merry Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house

not a creature was stirring not even a chao.

The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more

And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.

the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed

with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.

and that my dear reader sets the scene,

for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.

🎄

Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.

your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.

"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.

"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.

"Is that really today?"

"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"

"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."

"very well love, take as long as you need."

You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.

"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.

"How would you like me to help?"

"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"

"Consider it done"

The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.

After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.

The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.

after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.

Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.

That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.

"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked

"The best" you responded

"I'm glad you think so."

Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.

"Merry Christmas Shadow"

"Merry Christmas Y/N"

Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.

Much love,

-Chrystal

[tigirl-and-co]

Wahoo! Rainmakers fic is here! Merry Christmas! I spent highschool mildly obsessed with these guys, and now I'm proud to present what is probably the only Rainmakers x Reader fic ever written. I didn't check or anything. Who else would ever.

I tried to give everybody a distinct personality, please let me know if you think the vibes are coming through! It's meant to be set in a vaguely G1 universe. But more modern. Like if G1 took place some nebulous time after cellphones became common.

When I Think About Rain

Ch.1

"So what the frag is snow for?"

Watching a lime green robot kneel down in the snow and leave handprints the size of your entire body filled you with an indescribable emotion. Trying to figure out how to explain natural weather patterns to three of them gave you a feeling you could describe in a word: headache.

Looking from Acid to Nova to Ion, you tried to figure out how to respond. "Precipitation on earth just sort of happens, and life evolved to work around it. We don't really make it. We did try a few times but it just doesn't work."

Ion Storm spoke up from somewhere behind you, as blunt as ever. "That's stupid. You guys don't even control what weather happens on your own planet? Sheesh, talk about lower lifeforms!"

You shot the seeker a particularly unimpressed look, causing him to snort. He liked taunting you, and you weren't sure if it was because he had a crush on you or if he considered you 'one of the boys.' You were pretty sure it was the latter, but after Powerglide and Astoria became an item, you couldn't be completely sure.

Nova was looking up at the clear blue winter sky contemplatively, and it sort of hit you that Cybertronians don't have any childhood memories of winter. No snow days, no sledding, no digging caves in a snow bank. Snow wasn't magic to them in the same way it was to humans.

But Nova Storm didn't know what he didn't know as he turned to face his bluest brother. "I dunno, I think it's kind of cool. Having to live each day under a new set of circumstances, never really knowing what your planet's gonna throw at you. Be fun, at least for a while."

The leader of the group looked up from where he was poking at the snow to stare at you. "Sounds dangerous. Are you sure you don't wanna just move to Cybertron? We wouldn't even tell Shockwave you were there this time." You knew Acid Storm wasn't stupid enough to think it would actually ever work, but he hadn't given up hope yet that maybe you were.

Taking a swig of hot chocolate, you rolled your eyes at him. "Sneaking you lot through the spacebridge once every couple months is already risky. How're you gonna play off using it every week to get me food?" You gave a sort of faux-haughty shrug, playing at knowing better than the multi-million-year-old space warriors. "I don't see why you don't just switch sides so we can hang out more."

Suddenly, Ion Storm threw himself on his back, and even with the muffling of the snow it was such a powerful movement that you had to brace yourself to keep from falling over.

He lolled his head to look at you. "Because Optimus would probably make us actually do our jobs, instead of-" and Ion switched into an awful Megatron impression- "perfecting our acid rain formula."

You couldn't help but cackle at that, and all three seeker's optics softened. You were so small, smaller even than Soundwave's cassettes, but you weren't afraid to live loudly. To stare the Rainmakers, the flying horrors of Cybertron, right in the face and laugh about their boss with them. A life so fragile and fleeting that you refused to live in fear for it.

How were they meant to resist you?

Acid Storm found himself walking over to you. The loud crunch of snow being compacted prevented you from being surprised when he bent down to scoop you up and set you on his shoulder, you simply huff in amusement. So touchy.

Unable to protect your face from the sudden increase in winter winds from being up so high and simultaneously smile amusedly at Acid Storm, you ended up doing neither and gave him a bizarre and unreadable expression that stung your eyes and burned your lungs.

Laughing, he put a servo around you to shelter you from the wind. "Humans are all so weird."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure ours is the weirdest of them all," Ion Storm jeered from just out of your line of sight.

You couldn't suppress a snort at that one, and hollered a reply into the wind.

"Your human?" you couldn't help but call him out on that one. "Weird, I will own up to. But who ever said I was yours? I'm a free spirit, man, I belong to nobody but myself!" You hoped they could hear the smile in your voice.

Nova smiled back at you. "Well, we did capture you that one time," he rebutted, "which teeeeechnically makes you 'our human.'"

"Pfffft, no way! I bought my freedom fair and square! You let me go, so you don't own me!"

Ion stood up and reached over Acid's servo to seat you in the palm of his own, looking you dead in the eyes. "If you're not our human, how come we can just pick you up and you don't complain?" He narrowed his optics and sneered triumphantly.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head sympathetically. "Do you really think you're the only people who ever pick me up? Look at me, I'm adorable! People can't resist picking me up!"

You were too focused on Ion to notice Nova coming in from behind. "Aw, but we're your favourites, right?" He lowered his massive head down to your level, and if you didn't know him as the brains of the group, you'd almost think he looked like a puppy begging for praise. "We're the best at human-handling, yeah?"

After your heart climbed back down from your throat where the shock had chased it, you managed to feign being contemplative. "Hmmm... I suppose that's true. And I mean I did choose to spend a day hanging out in a snowy field in the middle of Fuckass Nowhere with you three, which probably has to count for something."

Now looking less like a puppy and more like the proverbial cat who got the cream, Nova grinned triumphantly. "See?" As he stood back up to his full height, satisfied with your answer, you simply had to giggle. In the low sun, his goldenrod colour scheme and general shape brought to mind a star at the top of a Christmas tree. His temperament certainly helped, of course. Giant killer robot or not, when he was happy, he had a sort of glow about him.

Acid Storm snorted.

"The Rainmakers: Scourge of Cybertron's Skies, and top-tier fleshy sparklingsitters." There was no malice in his tone- he really did just feel as comfortable joking with you as he did the rest of his trine. "I'm sure that'll put some real fear into the sparks of our enemies!"

You spun around in Ion's hand to give a witty retort. Ion fired a line at you, and you parried that, too. And so it went for the rest of the day. Eventually, enough hours had passed that your hot chocolate was gone and the stars had come out.

You smiled tiredly- you loved them and their banter, and you liked feeling like you actually belonged, but good God. There's only so many hours of witty banter in a snowy field the human mind can take. "Okay, boys. It's getting pretty damn cold out here, so we better get you home before I freeze to death."

Unable to tell if you were joking or not, they acquiesced. And in Acid's cockpit, on the long flight back to the spacebridge, you found yourself looking forward to the next meeting before they even left.

[bloodstainedveil]

CAL GABRIEL (ZERO DAY 2003) HEADCANONS

cal gabriel as a boyfriend // a lil angst? // tw sh mention // gn!reader // headcanons

cal gabriel, who knows how to make himself likable. he’d be sweet, funny, maybe even a bit awkward and shy at times, but only to the extent that it benefits him. he’s not emotionally invested in the same way most people are—he’s more interested in the idea of having someone who adores him… and that “someone” happens to be you.

cal gabriel, who would share enough personal details to seem open, but he’d avoid anything too deep. if you tried to dig into his thoughts or true feelings, he’d quickly brush them off with a self-deprecating joke or change the subject.

cal gabriel, who, no matter how much he likes you, andre will always come first. he’d cancel dates or disappear without much of an explanation if andre needs him. he won’t apologise either—it’s just how it is.

cal gabriel, who would swing between affectionate and distant. one day, he’d be laying his head in your lap, even allowing you to ruffle his hair; the next, he’d barely respond to your texts or act distracted.

cal gabriel, who wouldn’t view your relationship as something permanent. he’s too focused on zero day and doesn’t plan to be around long enough to see where the relationship could possibly go.

cal gabriel, whose younger siblings simply adore you. maddie and eric see you as an honorary family member and get super hyped every time you come over.

cal gabriel, who uses play-wrestling as an excuse to get close to you, pinning you down and laughing at your attempts to fight back.

cal gabriel, who tries to show off by playing sitar for you, fingers moving effortlessly over the strings as he plays a riff that’s surprisingly good.

cal gabriel, who teaches you a few basic chords, leaning in close to adjust your fingers on the strings.

cal gabriel, who rolls his eyes when you straighten his coat collar or tuck his hair behind his ear, pretending to be annoyed while secretly enjoying the attention.

cal gabriel, who mutters “quit babying me,” when you nag him about missing meals, but still eats whatever you give him without complaint.

cal gabriel, who has something small of yours that he keeps stuffed on his pocket—a bracelet, a hair tie, or even a note you scribbled for him in class. all of these ended up in the fire.

cal gabriel, who likes to carve your initials on random surfaces around school—lockers, desks, and even the bathroom wall. but his favourite canvas was his own skin—hidden from everyone but him.

cal gabriel, who has perpetually cold hands and always slides them under your sweater or onto your neck just to hear you yelp, laughing while you smack him away.

cal gabriel, who loves it when you grab his freezing hands and hold them between yours, rubbing warmth back into his icy-ass fingers while he mumbles, “they’re not that cold” (even though they are).

cal gabriel, who sometimes doesn’t let go of your hands even after they’ve warmed up, his fingers staying intertwined with yours.

cal gabriel, who freezes for a moment when you ask him about graduation and college, his usual smirk faltering before he quickly deflects: “college? i dunno, maybe i’ll take a year off.”

cal gabriel, who avoids your gaze when you press him about the future, running a hand through his hair and mumbling, “i don’t think that far ahead,”

cal gabriel, who is sweeter than usual in the days leading up to zero day. he’s always been sweet to you, but now there’s a weird sense of urgency to it—like he’s trying to cram a lifetime of memories into just a few days. he takes you out to see a random movie “bridget jones’s diary,” you don’t even remember half of it because you guys spent most of the time making out in the back row.

cal gabriel, who presses his forehead to yours after breaking the kiss, his breathing uneven when you ask him if he’s okay, whispering a soft “yeah” before pulling you back in, like he doesn’t want to talk about it.

cal gabriel, who filmed a tape just for you, apologising to you and explaining everything he couldn’t in person. it ended with a quiet, “i love you.” but the tape doesn’t not end up in the deposit box, and as cal and andre burned their belongings, he throws it into the fire, thinking it wasn’t fair to put you through that pain.

that’s all i can come up with for now :p

[bokutosbabe]

actually I was just passing by and scrolling on tumblr (using the school computer cuz I dont wanna go to class yet and because it has wifi) and I wanted to try and take my chance in your recnt post which I just saw and it made me pretty interested in who you would pair me up with

I have "take a chance with me" by Niki as my top song (of course) and Seventeen as my top artist for this years spotify wrapped, very interested to find out who you would pair me with, thank you again!!

if take a chance with me by niki was your top song and seventeen was your top artist, i'd pair you with...

isagi yoichi

જ⁀♡⊹｡° say what we we want, say what we feel

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event - masterlist -

♡ content — isagi yoichi x gn! reader, gn! reader, childhood friends, friends to lovers, awkward isagi, unrequited love for a second, mention of picking soccer and reader

♡ synopsis — you've always loved isagi yoichi, but when he finally tells you how he feels, your friendship could crumble.

You and Isagi always shared a quiet understanding. While the world saw him as a rising star, someone who was destined for greatness, you were the person who saw his true self—the quiet boy who feared failure and the overwhelming pressure to be the best.

It had always been like that, even when you were younger. He’d train, head down and focused, always trying to get better, and you’d be the one who kept him grounded, reminding him of the simpler things in life—the fun of just playing without the weight of expectations.

But those days felt so far away now. You’d grown up, he’d grown into a national hero, and the distance between you both seemed unbridgeable. Still, you couldn’t help the way your heart beat faster every time you saw him. Even now, after all this time, that same rush of emotions stirred inside you.

It was a rare thing, this moment—a simple, quiet day. Isagi had invited you over to his apartment after a long day, the kind where he'd just played a big match with his team, and you, as always, attended from the sidelines, cheering him on. Now, you sat on the couch, the warm glow of string lights and Christmas decorations creating a peaceful atmosphere as you both relaxed. You didn’t know why he insisted on movie nights like this. Maybe it was the closest thing to normal he had.

You hadn’t seen him in a while. With the constant traveling and the endless responsibilities that came with his career, you knew it wasn’t easy for him to keep in touch with everyone, but somehow, he always made time for you. There was something so familiar about him, but also, he felt like a stranger at times.

"Hey," Isagi's voice breaks through the silence. He's looking at you, his gaze soft but intense, like he’s deciding something, something important.

"Yeah?" You glance over at him, heart skipping a beat.

He shifts uncomfortably, one leg crossed over the other, eyes tracing the floor before meeting yours again. "I don’t know when things changed. When... you became more than just a friend. But I realized I’ve been putting this off for too long."

You blink, your heart hammering. "What are you talking about?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the sudden nervousness settling in your chest.

"I’ve never been good at expressing myself," he chuckles softly, the sound both familiar and a little sad. "I thought maybe I could just ignore it, or maybe it would go away, but... I don’t think it will." He looks at you, eyes full of something you can’t quite place, but it’s vulnerable. Raw.

You swallow, trying to make sense of what he's saying. It feels like he's been talking around this moment for years, and now, it’s finally come to the surface. "Isagi..."

His gaze softens, and for the first time, you see that faint trace of doubt in him—the same doubt you used to reassure him about back in the day. "I don’t want to regret this. I don’t want to look back and think that maybe I could have... I don’t know... tried something with you. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to mess things up, but now..." He exhales shakily. "I can’t pretend like I don’t want you in my life, in my future. I want to try, but I... I’m scared. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings."

His words hang in the air, and your heart feels like it’s been pulled in two directions. Part of you wants to reach out to him, to tell him that you’ve felt the same way for so long, that all of this time spent apart hasn’t dulled your feelings for him. But the other part—the part that’s always been afraid of taking that leap—wants to stay safe in the distance, to preserve what you have, even if it means holding back.

"You’re scared?" you finally manage to say, laughing softly. "You’re the one who’s been scoring goals in front of thousands of people, and you’re scared of this?"

Isagi chuckles nervously, his eyes bright with a mixture of relief and frustration. "Yeah, well... this is different. You’ve always been someone who just... made sense to me, you know? But now it feels like everything’s spinning so fast, and I’m not sure how to make it stop."

You let out a slow breath, your heart racing as you finally let yourself speak the words that have been trapped in your chest for so long. "I feel the same way, Yoichi."

His eyes widen, as if hearing it out loud for the first time is what makes it real. "So... does that mean you’d...?"

"I don’t want to pick," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want you to choose between soccer and the future we could have, or... whatever we are now."

Isagi’s expression softens as he inches closer, the tension between you both now palpable. His hand brushes against yours, fingers lightly grazing your skin. "I don’t want to pick either, but I have to try. So, let's just... try."

You can see it now, the sincerity in his eyes, the way he’s finally letting himself be vulnerable with you. And in that moment, you realize that even though the future may be uncertain, you’re both standing at the edge together, finally ready to leap.

With a shaky breath, you reach for him, your fingers curling into his hand, offering him the chance you both deserve.

soft isagi they will never make me change you

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[shhtickerbook]

Baby Feathers

Merry Christmas!

(Helluva Age regression ficlet that takes place post sinsmas)

I don’t see enough fics that have caregivers who want to try regressing!!! So I decided to fill that void and the soul destroying events of sinsmas gave me lots of agere fodder. have a lovely holiday everybody!!! Fic below!

Stolas had everything planned. It was new years Eve and both Stolas and Blitzø had the holiday just to themselves. Millie and Moxxie were spending the holiday with Millie’s family in Wrath, whilst Loona was going to another party at Beelzebub’s. Stolas had spent many a New Year’s Eve at insufferable galas, but there had always been one silver lining. Both himself and Via would slip away from the ball, where the two would sit on the roof of their mansion and watch the first new year’s moon come to rise. He still hadn’t realised that this would be the first year where they wouldn’t be able to share their tradition. He couldn’t stop thinking of Octavia, their last interaction cruelly playing on loop in his mind. His heart was breaking with every second, but at least he had Blitzø. If he hadn’t been grieving so painfully, maybe he’d be able to enjoy himself.

There was one aspect he found great comfort in though, and that was being able to take care of Blitzø. Over the past few months he’d been introduced to the Imp’s smaller side, which had taken a while for Blitzø to open up about it properly. He was a pretty headstrong character, and struggled s lot when it came to expressing any kind of vulnerability.

Stolas had actually found out by accident, with Blitzø regressing involuntarily after a bad night terror. Stolas’s heart had broke when he found his partner looking so afraid and vulnerable. Blitzø wasn’t able to really explain what was happening, but Stolas was already a parent, it was second nature to know how to comfort little ones after a bad dream. The next morning Blitzø had explained what happened, sometimes he found himself slipping younger in age, usually when he was stressed or was reminded of bad things. Especially since he lost his mother, she was the only person who treat him with gentle nurturing care. When he lost her, he never got to feel that again. So when he began to have these episodes, it became a part of himself he had to hide out of shame.

For a long time he continued to suppress this side of himself, pushing away all these childish longings. But he could only hold it back for so long until his body decided for him. When he did find out, Stolas was almost too supportive of it, finding this side of Blitzø absolutely darling. Lavishing him with toys, clothes and all kinds of things he never even considered trying. Stolas even found himself getting a lot out of caring for him too, it made him feel needed.

-

Blitzø had to admit that it felt great to not hide this side of him anymore. Stolas had officially seen every episode of that pony show, and helped Blitzø brush the manes of every single horse figurine he owned. But ever since the trial, neither Blitzø or Stolas had the time or the mental energy to take come time to relax.

Stolas had felt so guilty that in his current state he hadn’t been able to care for Blitzø, and had even collected a set of gifts for him to open from Sinsmas. On the day itself he’d set aside his little gifts so that he wouldn’t have to open them in front of the others. So he’d made the decision to surprise him with a “little sinsmas” on new years, when they knew they’d have the house all to themselves.

Stolas woke up early to get out the gifts he had stored away. Thankfully he had purchased these before he’d lost all of his money and possessions. But when he did get up, he felt awful. The former prince had slept terribly, tossing and turning as he once again replayed what had happened with Via. He was then cursed with unpleasant dreams that only tortured him further. All he wanted was his daughter, but she wanted nothing to do with him.

Regardless of how he felt, he pushed himself through it, today was for Blitzø. The imp had done so much for him recently, he had to pay it back somehow. He quietly looked through Blitzø’s wardrobe in search of some of his little clothes, choosing an oversized hoodie with some colourful horse motifs. It even had an adorable woollen mane that went down the hood. Last of all he collected a plastic box at the bottom of the wardrobe, stolas recognising it. Inside Blitzø kept all of his baby things, pacifiers, some teethers and other equally adorable equipment. It was adorned with multiple stickers, all in the horse variety.

As he entered back into the main room, stolas began to gather some ingredients for breakfast. The plan was to make Blitzø some oatmeal for breakfast, which was simple enough. Blitzø always liked it drizzled with cherry syrup, and if he was feeling little enough he’d even let Stolas feed him.

Stolas carefully arranged the gifts wrapped in coloured paper by the tree, flicking on the fairy lights for added effect. He loved the small touches of sinsmas, indulging in the little details that made it feel magic. Blitzø had mentioned how sinsmas wasn’t really a special thing when he was a kid, the circus would perform through the whole holiday. Which included an extra special sinsmas day show which was very popular, but it meant he never got to really enjoy the holiday.

He thought of a little blitz crouched by the tree, tearing open coloured parcels in glee. You couldn’t help but smile. As a final touch, he pulled the blinds open to let the light in. Such a simple action turned into a huge mistake. As Stolas glanced outside, his gaze was caught to the horizon. Peeking just through the clouds was the new moon, only barely visible. By tonight it would be hanging at the peak of the sky, even in daylight it was beautiful.

How could something so beautiful destroy him so painfully? Stolas remembered everything, his special tradition with his daughter. He thought of Octavia, sitting alone and watching the moon rise. The way she spat her words towards her father, looking like she genuinely despised him. Who was he kidding? It didn’t look like he hated him, she did hate him. Stolas just sank to the floor, his beak quivering as he felt tears building in his eyes. It was all too much. All he wanted was to hold his daughter in his arms again, but would that ever happen again?

she hated him.

she HATED him.

-

Blitzø turned over in bed, dozily reaching over into the empty space of his bed. He’d gotten so used to sleeping next to somebody again, so when he didn’t feel any feathers in his grasp, it pulled him out from his snoozing.

“Mmme- Stolas?”

He mumbled, eyes fluttering open. As suspected, Stolas wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Pushing himself up onto his elbow before rubbing his eyes, recently Stolas had been the one who stayed in bed. Blitzø would usually let him sleep in for as long as he needed, sometimes leaving a note if he had to leave for work.

With a yawn Blitzø pulled himself up, before hearing something from outside the room. It took him a second to realise in his sleep addled state, but he could clearly hear a sadly familiar sound of crying. Within a second he’d jumped from the bed and thrown open the door.

“Stolas? are you okay?”

In hindsight it was a pretty stupid question, especially when he found said bird on the floor of his sitting room. He was curled in on himself, sobbing bitterly. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of what he’d been like when Octavia had rejected him.

“Hey hey- what’s going on?”

Blitzø joined him on the floor, resting a hand over Stolas’s shaking back. Stolas flinched at the touch at first, but couldn’t help but fall into Blitzø’s hold. Blitzø could feel Stolas’s feathers quivering as he tried to control his sobbing. The Imp couldn’t help but notice that a lot of his little stuff was scattered across the room.

His box of pacifiers and that one hoodie he liked to wear, there were also some new gifts under the tree.

“I had planned to- I’m sorry, i just wanted to make today special for you.”

Stolas whimpered, feeling like he’d ruined everything. He thought he would feel better today, if he got to care for Blitzø. But right now owl felt as fragile as glass, but Blitzø held onto him tight and securely. It clicked as he realised what Stolas had been trying to do, his expression softening.

“Oh stolas, it’s okay.”

“It’s not! All I’ve done is mope around and you’ve had to do everything for me. Not to mention the money you’ve spent and the time I’ve taken up. I had it all planned, you deserved a break-“

It took him a little time to string together his response, tears continuing to dribble down his feathers. He felt pathetic, how was he going to care for a regressed Blitzø when he was this much of a mess? It furthered his suspicion that was just a complete failure when it came to any kind of caregiving.

“Stolas listen to me, it’s okay. It’s.. really sweet you thought of this.”

Blitzø gently tilted his beak to meet his face, the tearstained bird’s expression tugging something on his heartstrings. He looked around, spotting the half made breakfast and carefully arranged presents. All the effort he’d made, for him no less.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He chuckled, managing to pull the lanky heap of owl closer into his lap the best he could. His statement seemed to reactivate Stolas tears though, who cried intelligibly into his chest. It was the other way around, it was Stolas that didn’t deserve him.

Whilst Blitzø still wasn’t entirely sure on what had triggered this, it didn’t take an idiot to know it was related to Octavia. In the time Blitzø had known Stolas, he’d never seen him like this. The Goetian Prince was so broken, fragile. But thankfully Blitzø had some experience in that feeling already.

He let him cry it out for a few minutes, with the shoulder of his shirt becoming very wet. He ran his fingers up and down Stolas’s feathers, gently preening him as he murmured comfort. The sobs eventually died down into sad sniffling, but the grip around him still hadn’t broken. Although Stolas’s heart was breaking, Blitzø’s grip around him was at least keeping said shards in place.

As Blitzø rubbed his back, he was hit with a sudden idea. He felt a little guilty that Stolas had gone through all this trouble for him, especially as he wasn’t feeling anywhere near small. And as much as he cared for Stolas, he couldn’t fake his regression either. Anyways, he didn’t feel like he was the one need in comfort right now.

“Hey, here’s an idea. I know we’ve never talked about this before, but what if you let me take care of you today?”

Stolas stirred a little with a frown, peeling his crispy feathered face away from Blitzø’s chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You take care of me when I’m feeling low, why not let me baby you for once? You’re lookin’ like you need it.”

The more Blitzø thought about it, the more he wanted to give it a try. There was something about the forlorn bird in his arms that melted his heart a little. Was this how Stolas felt with him? Nah, he couldn’t he this cute.

“No, you’re my baby. I care for you, I care for people- it’s what I like to do.”

Stolas suddenly felt flustered, face lighting up bright red. He’d never even considered the idea of swapping roles before. Blitzø was his baby, never the other way around. He wasn’t sure if it felt right to him, he wanted to be the one caring for Blitzø.

“Yeah, and you do a great fuckin job at it. So why not let me return the favour, you might even like it?”

Blitzø teased as he gently pinched the owls red cheeks, already delighting in the idea. Stolas found himself wavering a little, especially with how shivery and weak he was. He looked over at the gifts guiltily, but Blitzø already had it covered.

“Look we could try it today, if you don’t like it, we’ll stop. We can save the gifts for tomorrow, and then you can have your turn babying me, sound okay?”

Blitzø sounded so sure that Stolas found it hard to disagree. Although it still felt very alien, he definitely appreciated this cuddling part right now. So in the end gave a defeated shrug, Blitzø’s face lighting up.

“You just relax and let me take care of everything, feathers.”

Stolas shook for a second, before burying his beak into Blitzø’s shoulder again. Fresh tears erupted seemingly for no specific reason. But this time there was a sense of catharsis that came with it, to be able to cry in safety. Was this how Blitzø felt when Stolas would comfort him whilst small? He hoped so, as it felt pretty damn good.

Blitzø began to rock him back and forth, kissing the crown of his feathers. He gave him a few more minutes to cry, Stolas had been forcing himself into long periods of numbness recently and clearly needed it. Eventually Blitzø shifted Stolas to the side a little, who whined at the movement.

“Lemme just move ya onto the couch, I can’t feel my fuckin’ legs anymore.”

With quite a bit of effort, Blitzø managed to lift the bird onto the couch. Unfolding the blanket over the armrest and tucking it around his skinny frame. Whilst no longer sobbing, Stolas had been reduced to the awkward hiccupy stage. Blitzø told ahold of his hand, squeezing softly to get his attention.

“Hey try and breathe a little, in and out.”

The imp demonstrated, and Stolas tried his hardest to follow. But he found himself falling back into the unhelpful gulping, even with Blitzø’s help.

“Here’s an idea.”

Blitzø turned and rifled through his little box, finding an unopened package. Blitzø himself still hadn’t used these ones as he didn’t like the colours. Stolas turned to see what Blitzø was doing, with his pupils pin-pricking when he spotted it. In his hands was a package of pacifiers, a pack of three different shades of lilac to dark blue.

“You’re doing a shitty job at breathing right now, try one of these. You’ll have no choice but to breathe a little slower.”

He spoke so casually, holding out a dark blue pacifier. Stolas had seen this kind of item many, many times now. But now when it was being presented to him, rather from him? It felt a little scary. Blitzø watched as stolas internally fought with himself, rolling his eyes.

“Cmon, open that beak for me, feathers.”

He used the pet name for the second time, which made Stolas melt a little. As if beyond his control he held his beak open, Blitzø placing the pacifier there before he could change his mind.

The sensation was certainly strange at first, the bird wasn’t really sure what to do with it. But his body was still hellbent on breathing hard, so he focused on trying to breathe nasally instead. Without realising he began to suck on the bulb, and breathed in and out. If it hadn’t been such sad circumstances, Blitzø would’ve definitely taken a photo. It was just too fucking cute. Instead he joined Stolas on the couch, still demonstrating his breathing in time to Stolas’s.

“Feels good doesn’t it?”

Stolas looked up at him lazily, his was face a little red self consciously. But he couldn’t lie, the rhythmic sensation of the pacifier was incredibly soothing. With each minute he understood just why Blitzø liked them so much. There was a cloudy fuzzy sensation in his head, one that forced him away from all the sad and scary feelings. It was a blissful escape, but it wasn’t numbing him the way his pills used to.

So he nodded at his partner, squeezing his hand back tight. They spent the next twenty minutes just cuddling, and Stolas honestly felt the calmest he had in months. Blitzø eventually had to pry the owl off of him to sort out breakfast, turned on the TV for Stolas. He considered what to put on, before setting on an incredibly corny fairytale movie about a princess. But it was worth it to see the way Stolas’s eyes lit up when it came on.

Blitzø made himself a cup of coffee, and poured one of Stolas’s weird fancy teas into one of his own sippy cups. Choosing the moonlight unicorn design, after forcing stolas to watch every episode of his horse show, Stolas had eventually chosen his favourite character. When he returned to the couch, Stolas shuffled over to curl into his chest again. The pacifier still hasn’t left his beak since placing it there, he looked undeniably adorable. Blitzø was just so happy to see him looking content for the first time in days. The two could just spend their day with each-other’s company, enjoying every moment.

-

Neither demon even made it to the end of the movie, the two of them passed out in a tangle of limbs. The bird with his head curled underneath Blitzø’s chin, the imp’s hand subconsciously still stroking his feathers. Blitzø had gotten so used to himself being the baby in their relationship, that he’d never considered how much he’d enjoy swapping places. The remainder of their day continued in a similar fashion, Blitzø leading Stolas along in hand. And to his surprise Stolas was a very quiet little, who didn’t speak much for the rest of the day.

It was different than when he was quiet when he was sad though, Stolas would still giggle if Blitzø said something funny and was clearly enjoying himself. Stolas just felt happy that he didn’t have to try and think of words right now, he could just be. He allowed Blitzø to dress him in some loose cuddly clothes, and even hand feed him little squares of pancake when he felt up to eating.

Blitzø loved learning more about this little side of him. And Stolas found himself embracing a part of himself he’d never even uncovered. They spent the day indoors, playing games and watching movies. In the evening when Blitzø was busy running a bath for him, Stolas couldn’t help but glance outside. The moon was beginning to rise in the early evening, himself and Blitzø agreed to head to bed before midnight. The whole new year’s celebration never interested him too much, he really only ever used it as an excuse to get wasted.

Stolas pulled the pacifier from his beak and dropped it to the floor. Feeling the fog of his small space drift away, he took in a deep breath. Slipping outside onto the balcony, he dared himself to look up at the moon. Giving anything just for one more moment with Octavia, wondering what she was doing right now.

“I know you hate me, and that you can’t even hear me- But I love you so very much.”

He spoke to himself quietly, not breaking eye contact with the rising moon. Hoping that just maybe Octavia could somehow get the message. He stayed there for a little while, not even realising the slow tears dripping down his face until he felt a hand on his. Blitzø didn’t say anything, he stood aside the Owl for a while until he stirred from his trance.

“I got your bath ready, even added a bunch of those bath nukes you like.”

“Bath bombs- you mean.”

Stolas couldn’t help but correct, although he still sounded sad. Blitzø held onto his hand and lead him back inside, finding the pacifier abandoned on the floor.

“Hey you still want this buddy?”

He held it up, unsure if Stolas was feeling completely big again. The owl looked at the object, clearly considering it. He watched the Imp as he stared up at him with genuine adoration. Instead of a verbal response, he just took the pacifier back and allowed himself to sink back into that comforting headspace. The Goetian prince stood tall above Blitzø, and to any old person they must’ve looked ridiculous. But Blitzø looked up at the tall owl and only saw a little baby bird, one that was in desperate need of some love and care.

“Cmon then baby feathers, I have a whole collection of rubber duck horses just waiting to play with ya-“

Merry Christmas y’all ❤️❤️❤️