#but since I’m an only child and they’re a single parent they only ever hear these things from me

[letstrythisout4]

Thinking about Fleamont adopting…basically any and every child in need of guidance.

Very “We may not know each other but if you ever need help, I’m here.” energy.

Like people always talk about Euphemia being everyone's mother and I agree 100% but Monty??

Don’t play with him.

They’re in Diagon Alley and a sales associate is being really just underhanded while talking to Remus and all of a sudden Remus just feels two massive heavy hands on his shoulders and Monty just starts tearing into worker, making incredibly specific but accurate reads into who they are as a person until they look like they’re going to cry. Once he feels satisfied he just steers Remus away, bringing him back to the others, not even bringing up the interaction that they just had.

They’re all at Slughorn's party and some high member of a subsect of the ministry makes a comment about how impressive it is that Mary and Lily are so talented given their “backgrounds” and Fleamont is just like, “What do you mean by that?” The person sputters some incomprehensible nonsense before excusing themselves hurriedly. The second they’re gone Fleamont turns to the girls telling them that if the situation is safe to do so that they should never let people speak to them in such a manner, “When that happens and no one says anything, they grow comfortable. Never let them be comfortable.” Even though he speaks softly as to not be overheard by god knows who, his tone carries enough weight for the message to stick with the girls for the rest of their lives. 

James would come and complain how his friends are being treated; how Sirius is crushed under expectations, how Remus (despite being the most competent person his knows) may never get a job, how Lily and Mary are always spoken down to, how Marlene and Dorcas get treated like shit by half the school since going public and how everything just isn’t right. 

And Fleamont would listen, he would listen as his son goes on and on about the injustices of the world and how he can’t understand, why and how? Fleamont feels a little crushed as he hears his son's voice crack as he asks his father for answers that Fleamont knows he can’t give. He and Euphemia tried their best to raise their son to be aware of the issues of the world. And he was aware, he just didn’t know. There are some things that one just has to witness to truly comprehend.

And so Fleamont is honest. “Why? Well, wizarding kind has built itself off of expectations, rules, standards that are meant to uplift our kind and keep us safe. And so that is, what many believe, to be the root of the issues you present. Sirius has so many, too many, expectations placed on him because his family fears the unknown of abandoning the expectations, rules and standards that their ancestors placed however many years ago. Wizards decided centuries ago that werewolves were dangerous and have kept that standard. They also set the standard that old magic, family magic, is superior therefore muggleborns get treated as if they are inferior. The entire standard of old magic comes from the idea of magic being passed down parent to child parent to child through “natural” births and so Marlene and Dorcas may never be treated in a far manner, for where you and I see a happy healthy couple, others see opportunities for magical improvement through magical marriages -and children- ending.”

Cue James adamantly stating how everything his father said is bullshit with no backing. Fleamont calms James down enough to explain to that as high society pureblood men, they have an obligation to those around them to speak up in places that those with less standing aren’t able to. 

Fleamont is an absolute menace in Wizengamot. The Potter family is a gray family, but when it comes to social matters, that man is on the dark family's necks. 

A dark family will propose a new law and give a long winded speech -that is just fear mongering at its finest- only for Monty to speak up at the end to swiftly rebuke every single point that they brought up. 

Why? Because he refuses to allow people to turn the world that his son and his children-in-arms live in into a world of fear. 

[disorganizedkitten]

We'll Take Our World By Storm Chapter 2

Harry Potter | 2021 | 9,191 | Ao3 | Previous | Masterlist | Next

 You may remember, reader, that last chapter I said I would often ignore the rules of time-space for the sake of the story. This is another of those situations, so please follow me backwards and sideways, to Kings Cross Station, early in the morning of September First, Nineteen-Eighty-Nine.

 This is another beginning, and again, you'll have to guess of what.

 There's a family of three, all female, all redheads, who are some of the first through the barrier.

 Amelia Bones, whom you met last chapter, and her girls, Susan and Delphi. Right now, Susan is all of nine years old, and Delphi is eleven.

 Amelia, since I didn't tell you earlier, has russet curls and a stress-aged face. She’s only fifty-six, which in wizard years is extremely young, but, as I said.

 Personally, I think she looks more refined.

 Susan is her niece, and Delphi her… cousin-ever-so-many-times-removed? Daughter? I mentioned that maps were wonky here? Try family trees. It wouldn’t be a problem, except everything is adoption.

 On topic though! Susan has the orange shade of red hair, but not very bright. She also has an adorable half-up ponytail with bangs, which Delphi helped her put in that morning.

 Susan’s eyes are blue, like Amelia’s, but Delphi’s are not.

 Have you figured out who is who yet?

 No?

 Let’s go.

 Delphini doesn’t plan to tell anyone her name until she has to, so neither will I. It’s this thought that keeps her from panicking as Amelia takes her to the train station. She knows no one will look at her and think Evil, but she's worried about what they'll do when they hear her name.

 She clings to Amelia when they arrive. Since they’re so early, Delphi is one of the first to reach the Hogwarts Express. She takes her trunk with her, and in a deliberate move against her parents, keeps her artificial octopus in the crook of her elbow.

 She had lain awake with her younger family, most of them coming to Hogwarts in two years, for many nights, wondering how she would survive going into this alone. None of her cousins, even the adopted magicals, were going to be at Hogwarts when she would be. Well, that’s not true, strictly, but Delphi hasn’t had contact with Alicia in a year and she worries that with age comes hate.

 It’s not an unfounded worry. But in this case, it just means Delphi has to use her own plan, the one made with the help of stubborn nine-year-olds and a single creative fourteen year old. The only hole in this plan of hers is that it won’t work after the sorting, so Delphi has to hope the old belief that you’ll meet your best friends (and sometimes your worst enemies) on the Hogwarts Express will turn out to be true. 

 It has so far; I’m rooting for her.

 The family reach the carriage door in time for Amelia’s watch, a portkey with a protean charm and a few other surprises, to begin chiming. Amelia jumps and fumbles to look at the screen, while Delphi and Susan share a look. Delphi feels her heart sink.

 See, Delphi remembers Amelia more than her blood parents, and she knows her caretaker, aunt, mother- she knows Amelia, and so she knows that Amelia will ensure the girls’ safety and then return to her duties. It hurts, even though she knows instinctively that Amelia loves her anyway.

 Amelia, meanwhile, was scanning the crowds for someone she could entrust with Delphi. Sadly, the number’s really, really small.  See, I haven’t said her name yet, and I won’t confirm any guesses until her friends know too, but suffice to say that Delhpi’s name carries weight, just of the kind no child wants to bear.

 “Andromeda, thank goodness!”

 Delphi’s aunt and cousin hurry over at the call. Dora is going into her sixth year, and is the only other metamorphmagus Delphini knows. “What happened, Amelia?” Andromeda Tonks asks as they converge.

 Andromeda is tall, with long, dark brown curls, white skin tanned by days chasing her daughter in the sun, and the hereditary grey eyes.

 “They’re trying to call me in, can you make sure Delphi is okay for departure?” Amelia asks.

 “Of course.” Andromeda assures. Delphi tries to smile, but it falls flat.

 Amelia crouches down to look at her eldest child, blue eyes soft. Delphi’s eyes change from inherited grey to the same navy blue, the only thing belaying her nerves. “It’ll be okay. The teachers shouldn’t allow any attacks, and if they do, write me. I’ll take care of it, I promise.” Amelia leans forwards to kiss Delphi’s forehead. “Listen to the sorting hat, I don’t care what house you’re in, as long as you’re happy.” Delphi nods, eyes stinging and vision blurring. “I love you,” Amelia says seriously.

 Delphi surges forward to hug her, before pulling away to wipe her eyes. “I’ll make you proud.”

 “Only by doing your best, I hope.” Amelia’s watch buzzes more urgently, and she relinquishes Delphi to Andromeda. “I’ll look for letters tomorrow.”

 Delphi nods, curling into her aunt’s side. As soon as Amelia and Susan have left, and Delphi is done mournfully watching their backs, Dora nudges her with a grin. “You know, I’ve always thought it would be great fun to have two metamorphs in the Sett.”

 Delphi grins back, a little brittle, but trying to reciprocate her cousin’s optimism. “Not afraid of me stealing your schtick?”

 “As if you could,” Dora challenges, hair popping to a brighter pink and streaking yellow and black through it. Dora has always been more free with her metamorph abilities. Today, the sixteen-year-old has blue eyes like her father, fair skin like her mom, and once-pink-blonde-hair gone bright. In contrast, Delphi keeps hers close to her chest unless she’s challenging Dora.

 Dora’s grin is wider, so Delphi streaks her own ponytail with all four house colors - a dark green, a bright yellow, a solid blue, and a lighter red. Gryffindor’s is hardest to see against her usual chosen color of cherry.

 The girls continue like this for a few minutes, until one of Dora’s friends arrives. When Charlie Weasley pops up, Delphi yanks her features back into herself and leaves her cousin to it.

 She finds a compartment quickly. She knows nothing about it, and as she runs her fingers across the leather seats, she breathes deeply because it was her choice . She doesn't know which compartment her parents used, and even if this one is it, it does not and will not feel like it.

 Growing up, her cousin Regulus offered to tell her stories of her parents, or even of her cousins, but Delphi refused. She didn't want to hear about the bright children who grew up to be monsters, and she still doesn't. She listens when Uncle Regulus tells stories to the rest of the children, because she knows those are for entertainment and not an attempt to connect her to parents she doesn't want to know.

 (Regulus, naturally, stopped trying when she told him that outright, merely saying that if she changed her mind to tell him. He has rarely brought up stories centering on her mother since).

 Delphi sits down in the seat by the window instead of the door, with her trunk in the overhang, and feels at peace because she is going to learn the castle mostly on her own. She's not going to look at a window and think 'this is where my parents were caught torturing a cat' or 'this is where my parents' first kiss was recorded'. She'll never think 'So many carriages away from the engine, this is where my mom rode her first year'. No. She'll think 'this is the hallway Uncle Regulus and his friends once saw turned into a swamp', and know that it was funny once but doesn't concern her.

 This makes Delphi smile, and she looks out the window with Leonis on her arm and hope in her eyes.

 Dora and Charlie are still talking on the platform, and there are a bunch of redheads around them who Delphi assumes are Charlie's family. She is right. The Weasleys, remember them? They, as they are wont to do, are seeing off their children with as much of the family as can come, even little eight year old Ginevra. Their red is more of a shaggy orange, like carrots or cheese chips. Or Arnold, if you remember the original Magic School Bus cartoon. I suppose references like that depend on the reader.

 Delphi's is, as mentioned, cherry. She looks rather more like Lily Potter, if you also remember.

 I’m beginning to hope you have a decent memory.

 The platform fills and empties in turns for the next three hours, and Delphi spends most of that time watching out the window and changing the colors of her nails. Contrary to what Dora would suggest, Metamorphi aren't all the human equivalent to mood rings. Some, like Dora, were morphing as infants and have strong magic tied into their looks, strong enough that they have to change often to use it up. A biological form is debatable, and usually built from what they see in family. Some, who you probably won't meet here, have to always focus on their current look, and can revert back to a biological form when either their focus fails or they spend their magic. And others, like Delphi, don't have a biological form. Any shifts they do will require matching effort to undo, for they are permanent.

 Delphi has spent most of her life practicing for precise morphs. She doesn’t have streaks in her hair anymore, because she willed the strands back to red. So as she turns her nails blue and then spirals white through them, it’s not a spell, but focus that she uses.

 At two hours to departure, Delphi is joined by twin girls. They’re identical twins, as happens so often in pureblood families. The genes are already strong, and twins rarely have more visible individuality than other siblings would. These two are brunette, with smooth, collarbone-length hair that Delphi finds unfairly cute. She thinks her own ponytail makes her look a little too drawn up for her age, but it’s her favorite hairstyle and she can pull it off much better than she can pull off Hannah’s pigtails. Or put it in quicker, at least.

 Delphi stops thinking about how cute their hair is, and instead smiles at the twin closest to her. “Hello.”

 “Hello,” the closer twin replies, sounding wary but open. “I’m Hestia Carrow, and this is Flora. May we join you?”

 The wariness makes sense, very suddenly. Delphi nearly stumbles over her words as she replies. “Of course! There’s plenty of room, as I’m sure you noticed.” She doesn’t even consider turning them away, because Carrow was a name ruined in the war, much like Delphini’s own. Hestia smiles tightly, and Flora smiles awkwardly, but they do come inside.

 They place their trunks in the overhead compartments, and then sit down, Flora across from Delphi, by the window, and Hestia beside her, too close to be in the middle of the bench. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and Delphi nervously changes the color of her nails again. This time, they turn seashell pink. She finishes smoothing the color, and darkens it by her cuticles, and then decides to fill the silence.

 She’s pretty sure being allergic to awkward silences is a Bones trait.

 “This is Leonis,” she announces, holding up the artificial octopus she’s had since before she lost her parents. His original name had been something like Luslus, but Delphi was able to rename him last summer with Uncle Regulus’ help. “I think he’s the only good thing my parents gave me, other than my name and life.” Delphi sets him back on her lap. He’s a faded orange, looking like a transfigured fox more than anything, but she loves him. She plays with his articulated tentacles as she continues speaking. “I turned him purple once, because my sister spilt grape juice on him and I hated the way the colors mixed. Another time, my cousin turned him blue because she was trying to remember the word for water and all she could remember was the color and that octupi live in it.” She moves to pet his crown, increasingly happy she brought him with. He had been there for a long time, and she hopes he will be for longer still.

 There’s another moment of quiet between the trio, as the twins digest Delphi’s word vomit. “How old is your sister?” Flora asks.

 Delphi smiles, feeling elated and accomplished because her olive branch is being returned. “She’s nine! Her name is Susan and she says if she’s not a Hufflepuff she’ll transfer to Beauxbatons.

 “What about you? Any siblings aside from Hestia?”

 “No,” and this time, it’s Hestia who speaks. Delphi feels giddy. “But we have a cousin who’s eight.”

 Delphi beams. “We could be their guides to the school!” She loved showing Susan any secrets she found in Bones Keep, and this could be that but on a much larger scale. She winces though, because Flora and Hestia look a little stunned and a little afraid. “That is, assuming we’ll still be friends when they arrive?”

 “Well,” Hestia begins, looking at Flora.

 Flora nods, and continues. “I’d love to be friends, but we don’t even know your name yet.”

 Delphi holds out her hand, wondering with a dropping heart if it’s worth breaking her rule for them. She decides to only do so if pressed. “Delphini, but most people shorten it somehow.” The twins look at each other suspiciously, so Delphi continues. “I’m trying to make friends before anyone can judge me for my last name.”

 That, at least, is something Delphi knows the Carrows can relate to, so when they smile and it’s still a little wary, Delphi takes her win.

 “Favorite chocolate frog card, go!”

 Hestia startles into a laugh, and Delphi thinks that she’d like it very much if the rumors are true.

 Let’s slide over for a moment, to another incoming student. Chester Norman doesn’t consider hiding anything about himself, except perhaps that he’s never as happy as he wants people to believe. He pulls his trunk behind him as he boards the train, and wonders if it’s a size issue that causes trunks to be allowed instead of suitcases. He thinks it’s a little sad, because his uncle has a really cool suitcase, but Chester’s has wheels and means he’s going to magic school, so he is okay with it.

  I find it a little sad how many muggleborns will give anything to be given their basic magical rights.

 Chester knocks on the first compartment that doesn’t look crowded or super rowdy, as he thinks the girls inside seem intent on their conversation, but not overly loud. And they left the door open. All three look up at the sound. 

 You’ve already met them, of course.

 The Carrows’ mouths snap shut quickly, both looking a little hostile but mostly nervous. Delphi though, smiles. “Hello! Can we help you?”

 “I was wondering if I could join you?” Chester asks.

 The three girls look at each other, each making sure to meet the eyes of both of their fellows, before Delphi nods resolutely. “Absolutely. I’m Delphini.”

 The twin closest to the window waves loosely. “Flora.”

 “Hestia,” the twin closer to the door says.

 “I’m Chester,” he introduces himself, lugging his trunk inside. He gets it into the overhang with the girls’ before sitting down in the corner by the door. He doesn’t consider the lack of last names. He’s eleven, as are the rest of them, and he’s a muggleborn. He doesn’t know the Wizarding emphasis placed on last names, and again. He’s eleven. Chester couldn’t care less. Sometimes I wish more people thought like him.

 Other times, he lights the school banners on fire and I’m thankful they don’t.

 Anyway. The silence as they settle together is shorter this time than it was the last. Delphi introduces Chester to Leonis, and Hestia opens the conversation again by outright stating that all copies of Grindlewald’s Chocolate Frog Card should be banned. “There are too many people who think breaking the law and harming others is a worthy ticket to fame, and all the lists of the most violent, or gruesome, or downright sadistic people encourage that idea!”

 Chester doesn’t know who Hestia is talking about, hasn’t learnt of Grindelwald yet, but one of his cousins was killed by a serial killer (a terrible, sadistic man, who would rip out the hearts of children) and even though the serial killer died two years ago, it’s his name that’s known, not Chester’s cousin’s. “They should have more memorials for the people killed by those types of monsters, instead,” he pipes in. Despite the conversation having been about chocolate frog cards for the past half hour, the girls follow the topic change well, throwing out ideas as to how that could be achieved.

 Chester doesn’t know this, but I as the Narrator do, and see fit to tell you here. Hestia has a point. Her point is a wonderful one, one that others will realize in the next half century and work to remedy. But underneath her logic is a child’s wish. A wish to be known for something other than the sins of her bloodkin. To not have people insult her for something she had nothing to do with.

 “I bet we could find old newspapers,” Delphi says, trying not to let her voice twist. I’m sure I don’t have to say so, but she has the same wish. “If we go by the killer or attackers’ names, in the archives. We could make a list of the names, if nothing else.” She reaches up to her trunk and digs out eight different quills - four real, and four sugar. She holds most of them out to her carriagemates, her own sugar quill already in her mouth. “I’m going to actually do this. Do you want to help?”

 Flora and Hestia take a candy and a quill each, and Chester slowly follows their example. “What’s with the white ones?”

 “Sugar quills,” Hestia says. “I think the trolley lady has some in other colors if you’d like to try, later. These ones aren’t flavored.”

 Delphi sniffs, some of the seriousness of the previous topic wearing out. “Of course they aren’t. Who wants flavored sugar?”

 Sadly, this is exactly when Dora pokes her head into the compartment. “What do you think Cotton Candy is, Elfy?”

 Delphi sticks her tongue out. “I stand by what I said.”

 Dora rolls her eyes, the roots of her hair turning yellow in amusement. “Good for you, then. I’m glad you made friends, if something explodes, Charlie and I are a few carriages down.”

 “Yes, Dora,” Delphi says, a little exasperated, even though she knows it’s just because Dora cares. Dora fake salutes, closes the door, and promptly lands on her face when she turns around. Delphi flinches at the noise. “Are you okay?”

 “Always!” comes Dora’s muffled reply.

 Flora is looking at Delphi, but it’s Chester who speaks first. “Someone you know?”

 “My cousin, Nymphadora,” Delphi admits. She’s still not using last names. “She always threatens to curse people who call her that though, so we all call her Dora.”

 Hestia hums. “Might be better for us to call her Tonks though, right?”

 Delphi doesn’t flinch. Flora and Hestia understand, she reminds herself. “At least until she gives you permission, probably.”

 “What do you mean?” Chester asks. “What’s a Tonks?”

 The girls look at each other in momentary panic, before Delphi takes the lead. “Muggleborn?” Chester nods. “Okay, so,” Delphi begins, unsure of how much he knows. The only muggleborns she personally knows live with wizards now, and the adults were always in charge of explaining the important bits. “Has anyone told you about addresses in the Wizarding World?”

 “I read the section on Floo addresses.”

 Delphi blinks once. Twice. Hestia takes over. “Definitely not what we mean. Unless someone has given you permission, it’s polite to call them by their last name. Sometimes titles, but not while at school. Delphi and Tonks are cousins, so by default they can call each other by their given names.”

 “Untrue, actually,” Delphi interrupts, finding her tongue again. “I have to call my other cousin by his last name, because his branch of the family nearly never interacts with ours.”

 Hestia stares. “That is so sad!” She bursts out. “We’re not super close, but our parents ensure us kids get together every few months!”

 Chester is a little lost, but he is obviously doing his best to follow along anyway as the conversation devolves into a discussion of Delphi’s odd family dynamics. “My mom wasn’t disowned but she is in Azkaban, and most of the rest of the family forsook… well. You know. My aunt and her husband… didn’t.”

 Hestia still seems disbelieving in the wrong ways, or perhaps of the wrong thing. “That’s still terrible.” She doesn’t say anything about how her dad and aunt escaped Azkaban and fall into the same category. “Have you even met him?”

 “Only once, since...” Delphi makes a face, a sort of half shrug grimace because Hestia and Flora know what she meant. Growing up, Amelia didn’t talk about the war in earshot often, and with plain words even less. Uncle Regulus, Aunt Vivian, and Uncle Adrian were very candid about it, but Aunt Andromeda wasn’t. Delphi wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be or not. She still isn’t. Sometimes she isn’t sure she even knows what happened. “Well. I went to his fifth birthday party with my Uncle, and it was…” She makes another face, this one just distressed. “A disaster.”

 Hestia winces. "We're talking about Malfoy, right?"

 Delphi doesn't respond. Flora purses her lips instead of wincing, knowing the misstep Hestia just stumbled into.

 "Sorry," Hestia cringes.

 "It's fine," Delphi says. And it is, because it’s not like Delphi expected them to not figure it out. "But yes, they are my cousins."

 "So," Chester cuts in, wanting to understand what’s going on again. "Unless you're close to someone, you call them by their last name? Kind of like Vous vs Tu in french?"

 Delphi turns, smiling brightly. "Yes, exactly! It's mostly done by wizarding families who have assimilated or are traditional, and it's because surnames carry the weight of your ancestors. A given name implies you know the person for themselves, and a surname is for someone you know by their family."

 "I think…" Hestia pauses, and Delphi waits so she can gather her thoughts. "I think that's part of why so many people look down on muggleborns. Because we don't know the history of their names, so to us it doesn't mean anything. Do… Chester, do muggles care about surnames?"

 Chester shrugs. "Some do, some don't. The Americans are so anti-last name it’s almost funny." Hestia hums.

 The conversation continues. Chester asks questions, his fellows try to figure out if they know the answers. Once, Delphi asks Dora for the answer, and the four of them get a twenty minute tangent from Charlie Weasley on how magical gifts don’t have actual affiliations, only societal ones.

 He’d know.

 Delphi licks her sugar quill, waiting for – she’s not sure. Something. Probably the guts to start her list.

 Obviously, it’s slow coming. It is not easy, readers, to admit connections to someone so terrible. She closes her eyes, and focuses on thinking of names. Who does she know who were horrible people?

 Her parents, obviously, count. A few cousins had been in the same terrorist gang. Who was that one Amelia always complained about? Something Macnair? Warden? Waldo? Walden? Delphi isn’t sure, so she just writes a W. and then the last name.

 It’s Walden, but again. Delphi isn’t someone I can pass my omniscence onto. So instead W. Macnair starts off her lists on one side. Then she writes down, only shaking a little, Regulus Black, followed by The Lestranges (B., Ro., and Ra.), Avery Rosier, Helinora Fawley, Antonin Dolohov, Igor Karkaroff, and Amycus Carrow. She thinks it’s probably sad that she can fill in Regulus’ list the fastest, but at the same time… Regulus learned. His list of victims was small, and Delphi knew it because Regulus regretted them and was candid about his sins.

 She doesn't know the others. But she knows they exist. She will know, one day.

 "Is that your list?" Chester asks, leaning across the compartment to look. Delphi nods. "Huh," he hums. "All wizards?"

 "I grew up in a wizarding family," Delphi admits with a shrug. "I'm not versed on Muggle criminals. Or french, for that matter." She adds, because that was how Vivian and Regulus always explained it. Magic and mundane have their own cultures.

 "But we can do muggle criminals?"

 "Of course!"

 Delphi doesn't notice, but the other three are all turning to her for permission. For guidelines. They won’t always, but right now it’s a group project in a group she started, and Chester is recently aware of his newfound opportunities to grievously offend someone.

 Chester takes her permission and starts scrawling names across his paper, the script messy and blotted, but readable. If you concentrate. Ian Bradely, Gregory Hallows, John Christie, Thomas Cream/Lambeth Poisoner.

 "I swear dad talks about Dolohov when he gets drunk but I can't remember anyone he actually killed," Hestia huffed.

 Delphi looks up, moving her quill over. "Um. He went to Azkaban for his involvement with the McKinnons' murders, we can narrow that down later… Smith? There was a Smith. And Prewetts, I think."

 "Were there really?" Hestia asks. "I thought the Prewetts were killed by McNair."

 "No," Flora says softly. "McNair is an aim and fire. 'Bloodtraitors' usually had actual fighters sent after them, because as much as they'd hate to admit that there are powerful wixen who aren't bigots, he knew they wouldn't be easy to kill." There’s a wry twist to her lips.

Pop back barely a minute, to the hallway between compartments, and I can finally introduce you directly to a Weasley. Two, actually. See, Hestia and Flora Carrow aren’t the only twins coming to Hogwarts this year. George and Fred Weasley are also here, and while they’re not twins, Hana Griffiths and Clementia Doe might as well be. Teddie and Cairo Murray are also actual twins.

 Fred leads the way through the train, watching as the few other students not yet sitting down scurry around. He's followed by his twin brother, George. They haven't found anywhere to sit yet, and are coming down for the second time. They worked their way up earlier, but none of the compartments had energy Fred is looking for.

 Well, to be fair, Fred isn't sure what energy he's looking for, but he knows he hasn't found it.

 The train left a few minutes ago, and Fred and George were almost late because of their mum fussing.

 She loves them, and it always makes her nervous to see them leave.

 They're in between two carriages when he hears it.

  "I swear dad talks about Dolohov when he gets drunk but I can't remember anyone he actually killed."

 Fred looks back at George, but George is pushing him forward. They both want to hear the end of this. They've been warned that Death Eater kids would be at Hogwarts, and if they find whoever is bragging about Dolohov they can avoid or hex them. The twins aren't sure which to do yet. Fred takes the next steps quickly. The hallways have nearly cleared out, after the rush of the train pulling away. They reach the door the sounds are coming from and stop, quietly.

 "-e can narrow that down later… Smith? There was a Smith. And Prewetts, I think."

  "Were there really?" The first voice comes again. It’s Hestia, if you forgot. "I thought the Prewetts were killed by McNair."

 The twins almost miss the next response, it's that soft. 

  "No. McNair is an aim and fire. 'Bloodtraitors' usually had actual fighters sent after them, because as much as they'd hate to admit that there are powerful wixen who aren't bigots, he knew they wouldn't be easy to kill."

 "What's a bloodtraitor?" A fourth voice asks.

 "A slur," says the second, harshly. "It was the- ugh. Um. Muggle Grindlewald, what was his name?" It’s quiet. Fred moves just enough to peek through the door’s window. "Right, no one knows both. Um, Chester, who was the dude who tried to kill all the jews this century?" The speaker is a redhead. Delphi.

 "Hitler?" Says the only boy in the room, Chester. He's the fourth voice.

 "Yes, him. Bloodtraitor is what the last dark lord called people he didn't like, trying to justify killing them."

 "Like the slavetraders did," says Chester, nodding knowingly. "After all, they're lesser, who cares if they're hurt?" The derision from his voice is strong.

 "Exactly. Warped reasoning."

 "It's still used as an insult," says one of the twins across from the redhead. (This is also Hestia, if you can't tell). "But now it's frowned upon."

 "Okay," Chester says.

 "Yeah," agrees the other twin. This is the first she’s spoken yet, at least during eavesdropping hours. She's sitting beside the window, has a quill behind her ear and another in her hand, parchment on her lap, and is, of course, Flora Carrow. "Delphi, do you remember the Prewetts' given names?" Not that either Weasley recognizes her.

 Delphi makes a face and pulls a quill out of her mouth. "I should, but I don't. Sorry."

 "Well," and window twin's tone is distinctly wry, "by the time we're done, you'll know their names."

 George knocks on the door. Fred jumps when he does, which means he misses the four inside jumping too.

 "Yes?" Asks Delphi, sugar quill still in her hand.

 George slides the door open. "We heard you talking about the Prewett murders."

 The reactions are instantaneous. The Carrows stiffen and jolt, Hestia shifting like she's ready to bolt. Chester nods, and Delphi narrows her eyes. "We were," she agrees. "What's it to you?"

 "Their names were Gideon and Fabian," George says.

 Flora relaxes, realizing this isn’t someone tracking them down to bully them, and Delphi’s eyes blow wide as Flora bends down and starts writing. "How do you spell those?"

 Delphi is surprised so many people want to help.

 The Weasleys don’t know any of this, but George knows how to spell Gideon and Fabian, which… technically Fred can do, since he and George are named after them, but Fred knows the names as his name, not his Uncles’. Beyond that, Mrs. Weasly talks about her brothers sometimes, but not often, and Fred was never very interested in family history anyway.

 "Thank you," Flora says when George finishes.

 "What are you writing?" Fred asks. Usually he knows exactly what George is thinking, or close enough to fool people, but right now he can't tell what's going on in his brother's head.

 It's Chester who answers. "Victim lists. We know the names of famous killers, but not who they killed, and that's wrong," his voice breaks on wrong, and suddenly Fred feels terrible for assuming this carriage was full of Wannabe-Death-Eaters.

 "Can we help?" Fred asks. He hopes George agrees.

 "Sure," says the redhead. She stands up and digs through her trunk for a moment before offering four quills to Fred. He takes one bundle of two, and realizes one is candy. "I'm Delphi and this is Leonis." She holds up a plastic octopus.

 "Flora," says window twin, but she's almost absent as she writes something down.

 "Hestia," says the other twin.

 "I'm Chester," says the boy. "Do you think it's possible to make a list of every victim of Hitler?"

 "Considering how many he wiped out, probably not," Delphi says. "There are probably people no one remembers." She doesn't say why people would be forgotten. It makes her sick to think about it. "But you can list a lot of them, I'm sure."

 "Delphi, do you know who killed Edgar Bones?"

 "Helinora Fawley is who confessed, but Amelia thinks that it was actually a Rowle."

 Hestia writes something down. "Thank you."

 Fred puts his and George's trunks up while George stands and talks to Flora. After a minute, Delphi scoots away from the window. "Here, George, sit down."

 "Thanks."

 Fred sits on her other side, unsure of what to do with this. "So, what's the idea behind this?" 

 Delphi looks at him and launches into an explanation of what they were talking about earlier that morning. Fred listens, and feels… grateful? And apprehensive. He doesn't like the dead, but he knows honoring them is important. And he would like people to know how much the Death Eaters' claims to fame hurt.

 The train ride is long, readers. So is the story itself; so I’m going to mostly drop my habit of smooth scene changes, and constant commentary. Sometimes you have to jump, and taking the time to explain loses the storyline. Such as today.

 I’ll still be here though, don’t worry. Someone has to tell the story.

 "What do you mean you don't collect Chocolate Frog cards?"

 Chester looks over and gives the purebloods his driest look. He's eleven, so it's iffy. "Why should I?"

 "B-because! They're chocolate frog cards!" Says George, as though Chester is speaking in code.

 "Susan builds card decks out of them," Delphi says casually. She’s on her third sugar quill, still plain. "For everything," she emphasizes.

 "Huh," Chester hums. He’s on his second, but it’s blue because there is a witch with a lunch and snack trolley on the Hogwarts Express, and he bought a flavored pack from her. "I'm not sure how many more I can come up with without help," he says, changing the subject back to their project as he taps his parchment.

 Delphi stands up to get into her trunk, as she does almost every half hour, and then drops her history book on Chester's lap.

 "Thanks."

 "I know we agreed no last names-"

 "We what?" Fred asks flatly, looking at Hestia instead of George. He looks at her because she spoke, is in his line of sight, and he doesn’t want to glare at his brother.

 Chester shrugs. "I hadn't noticed."

 "Some of us are purebloods," Delphi says sharply. "And I, for one, want to stave off the prejudice for as long as possible."

 George squints, trying to dissect his new friends. It could matter. It usually mattered. But he is enjoying his day, and Delphi is right. Their dad had told George and Fred to avoid the Rowles, Carrows, Goyles, and a lot of other names, because of the war and how people didn’t like each other because of the divides - some from the war, and some from tradition. “That idea has merit.”

 The girls’ smiles are a little too relieved for them to be from Light families. George puts it out of his mind, and Fred puts it in a box to review later.

 Hestia takes the conversation back. “Yes. But, Delph. If you are who I think you are, you-” her eyes cut to Fred, who had not quite relaxed like George did. George watches as she changes what she’s going to say, and he can guess the original. “-weren’t raised by your parents. So who raised you?”

 “Amelia Bones is who has guardianship, but my cousin and his co-parents helped. Uncle Regulus got to do most of my family education.”

 George blinks. Once. Twice. And then he catches sight of Fred’s face, a little less accepting and a little more confused. Which is when he realizes, oh yeah; their mom might have a hard time keeping track of them, and therefore assumed they both liked everything either of them did, but Fred didn’t like family history. Which meant it was probably only George who knew the second name. But Fred knew the first. Their dad and Amelia weren’t friends, but they did have a friendly relationship. Which meant he knew who Delphi was.

 So will Fred, actually, once he takes a minute to think.George definitely understands her reluctance now.

 “You mean you’re-” Fred starts.

 George jumps in, taking over before it could go in a direction that would sour this. “-our cousin too!” He injects more of a smile into his voice than usual.

 “I am?” Delphi asks. She looks genuinely surprised.

 George nods. “Yeah. Pretty sure our great aunt Lucretia is your grandpa Cygnus’ cousin.”

 Delphi tilts her head, going over her own family tree. “Grandfather Cygnus does have a cousin Lucretia. I haven’t visited her in a few years, though.”

 George nods. Fred is staring at him, confusion and hurt on his face. When Delphi looks away, George mouths ‘does she act like her parents?’ Fred shakes his head, and that is that.

 “Cool,” Hestia says. “I bet that means you know a lot of laws.”

 “Yeah,” Delphi agrees cautiously. “A lot.”

 “So what hoops will we need to jump through to publish these things?”

 Delphi grins, and the atmosphere returns to the slightly mournful but laid back air of before.

 "Frederick Gideon-!" George starts, in his best imitation of their mom.

 "Remember, no last name!" Chester calls before George can finish.

 George snaps his mouth shut, the light atmosphere dampered by the reminder that they're likely to split up once their family names and alignments become obvious. Flora obviously remembers it too, as her gleeful smile drains away.

 “Should we use middle names, then?” Delphi asks. Leonis has been relocated to her shoulder, then her neck, and is now affixed to her hair like a crown after a sticking charm was requested from the sixth years.

 George shrugs, and looks to Fred. Fred shrugs back. “Sounds good to me. George just told you all my middle name, and his is Fabian.”

 Delphi, Hestia, and Flora all seem to make the connection. Flora sneers for a second, but then checks her reaction. “Flora Eden,” she admits.

 “Hestia Paige.”

 “Delphini Cygnus. Although I’m liable to hex you if you call me that,” she warns.

 “We consider ourselves-”

 “Forewarned, cousin dearest.”

 Delphi laughs. Her friends join in.

 “You guys should change into your uniforms.”

 Chester jumps, spilling the Bertie’s Bots beans in his hands across the carriage floor.

 “Here,” Hestia says as the door closes behind the prefect. “Accio.”

 “Summoning spell?” Fred asks, impressed. Hestia looks over and grins.

 “It’s not, you know, easy, but I could teach you later?”

 “I’d like that.”

 “Hey Delphi,” Flora says softly. They’ve deboarded the train and the gameskeeper is calling them forward, but they still huddle together.

 “Yeah?”

 “Why’s your middle name Cygnus, instead of Bellatrix?”

 Delphi is quiet for a few steps, thinking. “I’m not… sure. There are theories, and I do qualify for my family heirship so I’m not the second child, but,” she shrugs, the motion hard to see in the dark. “A lot of people say…” Delphi takes a heavy breath, unsure if she’s willing to gossip about her own parents. She doesn’t like them, but it makes her feel gross inside to trashtalk them. “It’s because despite being heiress… you know; my mother had a child for another family.”

 “So they would’ve gotten the name?” Chester asks. “Is it a big tradition?”

 “Yeah,” Hestia confirms. “The oldest child’s middle name is meant to follow the parent of their gender. Sometimes the first of the other gender will also get the other parent for a middle name, but the firstborn is really important. It's a way of being named after the last matriarch or patriarch without the confusion of two Lord Charlus Potters happening in congruence, and when families are large it's a way to show which line you're from."

 “Yeah,” agrees George. “Our oldest uncle is Dominic Septimus, but our dad is Arthur Edward, so our big brother’s William Arthur. Our little sister is Ginevra Molly."

 “Huh.”

 “Exactly,” Delphi agrees. “Which is why being named after my grandfather is odd. Uncle Regulus is named after his, but he’s also the second child. His big brother was named after their dad.”

 “Have you ever met the probable-at-least-half-sibling?” Chester asks next.

 Delphi shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She kind of wishes yes, but she also worries about what they’d be like, hypothetically.

 “The other option, depending on how happy the marriage was, is that Delphi’s big sister died young, or was stillborn,” Flora says, just to offer an alternative.

 The conversation ends as the crowd of first years come upon a large, dark lake. “Ooh,” Fred murmurs. The six of them link hands.

 Not much later, Hestia is becoming increasingly nervous. That’s not surprising, even she knows, but… well. The first professor they met, a Professor McGonagall, had finished her introductory speech by telling them to all be a credit to their houses. Hestia knows what house she is going to be in, but she’s starting to doubt her will to be there.

 She knows exactly what will happen when she sits down under her banner of green. (Sadly, the same thing can happen if she wears blue, or yellow, or even red. Perhaps especially red.)

 She sticks with her friends as they move towards the Staff table in the Great Hall (and how pretty it is! She absolutely needs to look around more later) glad that McGonagall hadn’t seen the need to make them get in a line.

 She takes a breath at Flora’s nudge, straightens her back, and smiles.

 Fred raises an eyebrow beside her. “You look like someone’s being murdered in front of you,” he mutters. Hestia closes her eyes.

 “Dangit.”

 “Crinkle your eyes a bit more,” Delphi mutters from right behind Hestia. “Wide eyed smiles freak people out for some reason.”

 “You can’t even see my face,” Hestia hisses.

 “General rule,” Delphi mutters back. “George, how’s Flora’s smile?”

 “Shy, but not creepy.” George responds. Their little huddle is in pairs and rows, going Hestia and Fred, Chester and Delphi, and George and Flora.

 Hestia smirks as she realizes what she should do next. “Chester, what about Delphi’s smile?”

 “She has too many teeth. Literally.”

 “I do not!” Delphi hisses, but the panic in her tone belies her protest. She had shifted.

 Hestia hides a laugh, both in response to Chester’s deadpan delivery and to Delphi’s response. They reach the front of the Great Hall, and since none of the other students spread out, neither do they. Hestia’s worry hits her full force again. She knows Delphi’s family ties, but despite Delphi being friendly on the train, if given the chance Hestia wouldn’t be surprised (or offended, she fruitlessly tells herself) if Delphi cut ties from them to try and protect herself.

 After all, if she isn’t friends with any other Death Eater kids, maybe she could convince people she isn’t her parents easier.

 It’s what Hestia and Flora should do, but there was no possible way they’d survive that in Slytherin. She doesn’t want to lose the other four either.

 The Sorting Hat (Hat! Hestia wants the history on that Hat and she wants it before Yule) starts to sing, something long and winding about the houses and the founders and how “Alas, by the time lost Slytherin returned, all his friends but one were gone. Beware, young ones, of letting wounds fester for too long.”

 Hestia loses her composure for a moment to grab Flora’s hand as the first name is called.

 “Adolf, Caroline.”

 Flora looks over at her. Hestia knows her smile has vanished. George reaches up and nudges Hestia, before the sorting Hat shouts out “Hufflepuff!”

 “It’ll be okay,” he says softly.

 Hestia really doesn’t think so, but she was raised a Slytherin and is willing to wait for him to abandon her himself. Flora squeezes her hand, and Chester grins lazily. Hestia glances over at Delphi, who is evidently nervous enough to try and break Fred’s hand, anxiety clear on her face.

 The boys are the only ones who didn’t seem super worried. Hestia wouldn’t be surprised if they were just good at smiling through things, though.

 Hestia is right, actually, but they get even better at it later.

 Ah, I realized you have no idea what the colors or houses are, or mean. Especially considering I skipped the Hat’s song. They will come up many times, but for now I have to give you the basics. The houses are split by values. Loyalty, Daring, Curiosity, and Ambition.

 The rest you’ll see later. A lot of it has been twisted by society over the years, and I still have a sorting to walk you through.

 “Hey. Let’s meet in the haunted bathroom after classes tomorrow- anyone who wants to stay friends.” Hestia finds the words impulsively as the third name was called, this one beginning with a B. She doesn’t want to lose her friends, and so she’ll make opportunities to keep them.

 “Deal,” Delphi nods.

 The next name is Flora’s. Hestia’s heart seizes as she lets go of her sister’s hand to the tune of booing. Flora smiles at them, tight and too emotional, but Hestia can’t say anything about it. Hers is just as bad. As far as she is concerned they are in front of way too many enemies to be open like this but she physically can’t do anything else. And she doesn’t know it yet, but that’s okay. Children don’t have to grow up too fast.

 “Isn’t Carrow bird meat?” Chester asks quietly, squinting up at the hat as Flora sits down primly under it.

 “No?” Delphi says, turning to look at him instead. “You might be thinking of Carrion, but Carrow is a name that means something like hill-dweller.”

 The booing quiets down enough for McGonagall to set the hat on Flora’s head. Hestia doesn’t want to look away but right now is a crucial time. She waits until Flora’s eyes are covered.

 “How do you remember that?” Chester asks. Hestia watches Fred and George. “Do you just know a million of those?”

 “No,” Delphi says, tone going softer as she too watches Flora. “But one of my cousins is a Dunbar, which means fort on top of a hill, so I remember Carrow too.”

 The other twins are making faces at each other, but-

 “Slytherin!”

 -when the verdict comes, they both break into uproarious applause. Hestia relaxes just a little. A few more people boo, and then George starts yelling.

 “Go Flora! Attagirl!”

 Hestia thinks her chest will explode.

 A moment later, George looks over at her and grins, still clapping. It looks as awkward as Hestia had felt a few moments before. Delphi obviously catches sight of the exchange, because she reaches over and nudges Hestia’s shoulder.

 “Friends, right?”

 “Carrow, Hestia!”

 Hestia waves, but before she moves she purposefully meets both Fred and George’s eyes. “Thank you.” And then she’s up, walking as prim and poised as her sister had been, ignoring the jeers.

 Hestia is sorted quicker than Flora had been. Relatively. People are still booing, although Fred is happy to see Charlie reach over and shut one of the other older years up. The wait for them to quiet down means the Carrows are up around the same amount of time, but Hestia spends less time with the hat actually on her head.

 “Slytherin!”

 Again, Fred and George are uproarious. Hestia waves lowly as she passes them on her way to the Slytherin table. George grins at her and Delphi shoots her a thumbs up. Chester mimes smiling wider, and Hestia breaks character long enough to stick out her tongue. Fred just smirks.

 As the rest of the sorting commences, Fred starts answering Chester’s questions of why some people booed in a low voice, while George and Delphi stare and make faces at each other, trying to make points without getting another reprimand to be quiet.

 When Fred catches sight of them, he’s a little miffed that it only took one day of knowing them for these four to have the same silent conversations he and George often have, but then he thinks of all the pranking opportunities and is elated instead.

 He’ll enjoy staying friends with them. As long as the bathroom isn’t a trap, he’ll cause as much chaos as needed to ensure older students and teachers don't get in the way of their friendship; not for house divides, not for last names, and not for grudges that should stay in the generation ahead of them.

 “You’ll be at the bathroom too, right?” George asks Delphi, as "Jordan, Lee!" goes into Gryffindor. Fred looks over, ready to open his mouth because she already said so, but snaps it shut when she actually answers.

 “Unless I’m in the hospital wing.” She says it with a smile, as though it’s just a given. Or a joke.

 Fred decides then and there that he’s going to learn curses this year. Jinxes were all well and good for squabbles and playfights, but as he had apparently befriended dangerous people now, or people in danger, he needs to catch up.

 George stops smiling at her comment. “You won’t be. None of you will be.”

 “We could be,” she looks away, staring firmly at the hat. “Wouldn’t be surprised if we were cursed before we went to sleep tonight.”

 George reaches for her, but Chester gets there first. “Then we can drag beds together in the hospital wing, can’t we?”

 Delphi laughs, a little wet and a lot genuine, leaning into him a bit. “You better know some curses you can teach us,” George says, looking over Delphi’s shoulder to Fred. Fred nods. “Freddie and I were planning on being pranksters, but we can do revenge too.”

 “Nah, best to get revenge with pranking spells. Annoy them to death.” She smiles, one that was more brittle than the last. If she were anyone else, she’d agree, but Delphi hasn’t been at Hogwarts for a day and is already desperate to be seen as better than her parents. Fred doesn't protest, for now, because he can’t see her face but it sounds like she’s trying not to cry. His little sister, Ginny, does that too.

 “Sure,” Fred says, even as he catches George’s eye to tell him absolutely not. Maybe for the first offense, George offers, but Fred can tell he’s hesitant too.

 Chester huffs and hip-checks Delphi. “Turn all their hair their least favorite color, and then make all their food taste like boiled eggs.”

 She snorts. He grins.

 “Lestrange, Delphini!”

 The booing starts up immediately. George reaches over to high-five Chester, but Fred only notices that peripherally, instead focused on how he needs to change what’s acceptable in this school. He looks for the angriest faces, but he won’t be able to remember them as more than houses yet.

 He gets better at it, later.

 The booing doesn’t stop, so only a few people hear the Sorting Hat’s verdict. Fred, Chester, George, Dora, Charlie, Hestia, Flora, and Alicia all find this disgusting.

 Four of them had only spent six hours with Delphi, but they know she deserves better. They all do. Charlie especially only realizes the hat said something when Delphi stands up.

 In the middle of the Gryffindor table, clad in red, black, and gold, a host of redheads are trying to quiet people down. At the Slytherin table, anyone jeering shuts up quickly from glares. In Ravenclaw, no one is able to do much. At the Hufflepuff table, Dora is throwing low-level hexes that shouldn’t get her detention, but if they do she doesn’t care much. That’s her baby cousin!

 A few people among the unsorted jeer too, and a black girl with a determined twist to her lips kicks the legs out from under three and punches a fourth.

 Delphi stands up, carefully places the hat back on the stool, and starts walking.

 The House Tables are set so that Gryffindor is on the left from the doorway, with Hufflepuff beside them, and Ravenclaw on the other side of the center aisle. Slythern gets the far right.

 Instead of going towards the Ravenclaw table and past it to Slytherin, though, Delphi stops on the edge of the Hufflepuff table, and waves to Dora. Dora grins back at her, pretending she isn’t hexing tentacles onto a seventh year.

 Up among the unsorted, George cackles. “Go Delphi!” he starts cheering and hollering, and Fred and Chester join in after a minute. So does the girl from earlier.

 Delphi turns to look at them, and then turns her hair bright yellow. Fred grins, thinking her spellwork is impressive. He’ll figure it out later.

 Chester turns to the girl with blood on her knuckles, and holds out his hand. “Chester.”

 “Alicia,” says Alicia Spinnet, a muggleborn who spent six months with the Dunbar-Blacks and loved it. She shakes his hand.

 Alicia hadn’t realized Delphi would be here this year, and she hadn’t recognized the girl either. Of course, it makes sense.

 See, Bellatrix Lestrange Née Black at her prime, also known as how everyone expects her daughter to look, looked very different from Delphini Lestrange. 

 The differences, dear reader, that Fred, Alicia, and anyone else with eyes see, are ones I can now openly point out. Bellatrix Lestrange has hair black as her birth name, which crackles with magic like lightning and frizzes like a storm. Her eyes are large and unnerving, the same color as her daughter’s, but that’s not why Delphi kept the resemblance.

 No, Delphi’s hair is red and smooth, darker than that of the family that raised her, but a reference all the same. Her eyes are silver, but that’s a family trait that goes beyond her mom. Regulus has silver eyes, and so do Andromeda and Fay. That’s who she keeps them for. Her eyes aren’t as wide of a shape, and her nose is blatantly stolen from Vivian. (Her cheekbones are from Caspian though.)

 Fred watches as Norman, Chester, goes to Ravenclaw, and he and George cheer just as loudly for him as they did the girls.

 Spinnet, Alicia, their new friend, goes to Gryffindor, but only after George invites her to the bathroom meet up too. When Fred sends him a look, George sends one back that essentially says ‘if she fights like that, I want her on my team’.

 Two names after Alicia, George turns to his brother seriously. “If we can’t get into Gryffindor-” he starts, voice low.

 “-we’ll be fine.” Fred assures him. Earlier, Fred wouldn’t have been so sure, but George made them friends and Fred knows their brothers will be there for them no matter their house. “We’ve got a friend in every house now, remember?”

 George grins at him. “We’ll be fine,” he echoes.

 “Weasley, Frederick!”

 Fred looks back at his brother. “If we’re in different houses, I’m going to steal your tie.”

 George grins even wider and clasps Fred's hand. “Deal.”

[11-45pm]

Mosiac

I’m a mosaic of my life. Every single experience, every single person, every single memory I have has shaped me into who I am today. The bad ones come in shades of deep, brooding blues and dark, vicious reds while the good ones come in soft, comforting waves of pastel pinks and purples.

My parents come in all sorts of shades. They taught me love, but they also taught me fear. They love me so much, and yet it could all change with three words. They taught me conditions and lying and all the things necessary for a closeted kid to survive in a homophobic household, but they also taught me heartbreak. I’d never felt heartbreak until I realized I was lesbian, since it also came a realization: my parents would never truly love me. Sure, if I came out they’d learn to live with it a few years later- but they wouldn’t be happy the way they would be if I was with a man. I thought that they’d never love all of me, and that was my first heartbreak. This realization wasn’t a dark blue or a red or any color— it was a crack that runs through the glass. I had sworn myself to a life of rushed kisses and silent tears, and assumed that would be how the rest of my life would be. That was, until one day in India. We were at a resort and I’d been dropping not-so-subtle hints to her the whole trip. Then, one night, she turned to me and looked me in the eyes and told me she’d always love me. My whole life shifted after that moment.

My brother, however, is midnight blues and scathing reds. If my parents were my first true heartbreak, he gave me little heart fractures. For as long as I can remember, he’s always been selfish. When I was younger, I didn’t care. I wanted him to like me- I wanted to be just like him. He was smart, successful, and popular. He was my parents’ main priority, and I didn’t mind. I remember that in elementary he was well known for being the youngest member on the robotics team, and he helped them win in a national robotics competition. I wasn’t known as Riri, I was known as his little sister- and I was proud of that for a while. However, things changed in the walls of our house. He turned mean- almost emotionally abusive. He lashed out on whoever was near— and most of the time, it was me. My brother would call me mean names- things no child should hear, especially from their brother- and wasn’t satisfied until I was a shaking, sobbing mess. It took years of self reflection, time, and strength to admit that he wasn’t a good person, and even longer to heal. I can confidently say that I’m stronger now, and that I know what isn’t healthy.

I have a reprieve, though- art. Initially, I used to read. I’d spend hours getting lost in tales of dragons and romance and fairies, and I loved traveling every time I read a story. My reprieve then shifted to listening to music as I got older- I’d lay on my bed and close my eyes and let the song wrap around me. I remember blocking out everything: my parents arguing, my brother calling me names, school and friendship issues. I joined an art class in 6th grade, which changed my life. I was accepted, and had a passion that I could truly call my own. Over time, I grew to the point where I was proud to display my paintings. I started an art account on Instagram and grew more confident with myself.

Then come my medical issues- they’re colorless but they take up most of the mosaic’s bottom. Starting in the beginning of my sophomore year, I would get terrible migraines. They weren’t frequent, and I was told I was overreacting and seeking attention, or that those were from my period. My migraines became more and more frequent, and they’d gotten to the point where I would hold back tears every other class period. Then, one day, I had a seizure. The MRI scan revealed a benign brain tumor, which needed immediate operation. Ever since then, my migraines have only gotten worse, and nothing the doctors have tried has helped. When I get migraines, they’re like a freight train- they derail everything I’m doing. So much of my recent years have been spent staring blankly at my wall while I wait for the pain and static to go away. If the mosaic is my life, my migraines a transparent void with no real purpose other than to take up space.

My mosaic isn’t finished yet. My life has barely begun, and it’s important to remember that in the end, these years will be a distant memory for me. However, it’s still important to look back at all the colors and experiences that make me me and contribute to my identity, and remember that I still have so much growth left in my journey.

[percontaion-points]

Lifeblood chapter 20

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

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Chapter 20

My parents were good to me...at first. The older I became, the more involved they became in their work. Dad was a representative in the House of Myriad, helping to pass realm laws for humans. Mom had her paintings. One day, I woke up, cooked my own breakfast and realized I had been raising myself for years. 

They spent time with me only when I required discipline, and the knowledge had hurt. Badly. I’d become an afterthought to the people who were supposed to love me.

Not only that, but they were still expecting for her to blindly follow in their footsteps simply because they demanded it? Yet at the same time, couldn’t be bothered with their own child? 

It’s even worse when you think of how the book is trying to redeem Ten’s mom. Like sorry that you started having second thoughts, but it’s literally too late. Especially when you remember that mom broke the law and had a second kid, but subjected said BABY to a life of suffering, and almost immediate death. A LITERAL BABY. 

At sixteen, I became a bargaining chip. Because of my supposed Fusing with a Myriadian General, the realm offered my parents more money, more fame—but only if I made covenant. I wasn’t a daughter. I was a key. 

I’m pretty sure that I said this a lot during the first book, but not one single person seemed to give a shit about Ten. They only wanted her power, and the things that she wanted to do didn’t seem to matter. 

Look me in the eye and tell me that Troika gives a shit about Ten’s wishes. They talk an awful lot about free will, yet demand that she go into the field after like a week of training. 

“And my dad? How is he?” 

“He’s being trained as a Laborer, but not with the new arrivals. He has a private tutor because he’s on the fast track.” 

I’m not surprised. At the end of his Firstlife, my dad’s love for me—if he ever really loved me—had darkened into hate. He blamed me for the loss of his fame and fortune, and paid to have me killed.

I enjoyed how Myriad had branded daddy dearest as a traitor who tried to get around the child clause in his contract by having a second baby. But all of that was apparently for show, since they’re treating him WELL in Myriad. 

“Any leads on the spy?”

 “Nothing yet.” 

Who could it be? Kayla, Reed, Deacon, Victor? I trust them. Elizabeth? I would love to blame her. Levi? Even though I’m angry with him, he doesn’t strike me as a fox but a shepherd. He fights foxes, keeping them away from his flock.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but the entire idea of a spy is acting like nothing is wrong. Even if you’re sometimes acting against the side that you’re spying for in order to maintain your cover. 

So literally any one of those could be a spy. 

He can’t pass through the Veil of Wings to reach me in Troika, but I suspect he would try if he thought I was in trouble—try until he died.

Chapter 20 summary: Ten and Killian start making out on the patio of the French cafe. As he pulls her away to somewhere more private, Ten randomly thinks about how shitty her parents were. Not only at the end, but how neglectful that they’d been before that. 

They start making out in an alley, but then they move to the cave that they camped out in right after Killian and Archer helped Ten escape from the asylum. There, they continue to make out. Killian eventually stops her, and says that he doesn’t want their first time to be when they’re wearing their shells, which is fair. But it’s also kind of a terrible thing to say, especially since he’s still refusing to deflect. 

Killian tells her that Levi comes to him sometimes. But during their last chat, Levi told him that he’d found a barrister for Ten’s mom, so now her trial is going forward. Ten is relieved to hear that, and asks about her father. He’s basically being treated super well, which pisses Ten off something fierce. 

They talk about the Troikian spy. Killian says he kidnapped Victor to prove that he wasn’t the spy. But even after all of that, he’s still not convinced Victor wasn’t somehow getting messages out while in captivity. He also says he didn’t wipe Victor’s memory, which is super suspicious right now. 

He goes on to tell her that he knows that the souls in Myriad are not resurrected. Ten says she thinks that they end up in Many Ends, but he isn’t sure about that. He explains his reasoning in the resurrection thing in explaining about his mom. His leaders had been hedging around about the new identity of his mom, which was frustrating him to no end. So he looked up the info on his own, and went to visit this woman. Except he knew that it wasn’t her when she tried to sleep with him. Ten isn’t sure about that, since Killian died when he was a baby; he never knew his mother, so how does he know that she wasn’t a slut? She goes back to the Many Ends thing, and describes the lake that she, Kayla, and Reed had to swim through to get to Myriad. Killian is lost in thought, so she thinks that there’s a similar lake in Myriad. 

Before they leave, he gives her a Pi necklace, with an emergency beacon connected to him. She gives him the gun-ring Meredith had given her. 

[i-am-the-balancing-point]

sorry I’m having a clown story complaint about my parent again and just need to rant 🙃

so they come into my room with our cat and tell me it was funny to hear me giggle tonight (/gen, not actually sarcasm), saying “I heard you and wondered what’s that?“ to which I reply “and then probably: Are you still here?” which refers to an argument we had a few days ago where I got up early, think 3am, to stream the DLC for friends in a different time zone. My playstation from which I stream is in our shared living room and I had informed them about my plans the night before so they wouldn’t get worried should they hear sounds from downstairs in the middle of the night but I generally kept very quiet and used a headset.

When they came down around 6am bc they had to go to work I was still playing but not streaming anymore and greated them with a friendly “Good morning”. All I got as a reply was a growled “Are you still here?”. 🙃 I get that it’s the early morning and I had been awake for a while but I still find that rude asf even or especially if you’re talking to your adult child. I would have been fine with no answer or a groan or just any sign they were not up to talk, all I got was a passive aggressive rude as shit remark and I let them know how I felt about it. At first we laughed about it bc they recognised it was out of place.

I have brought this up multiple times because I am still upset about it. If this was a singular occurrence I probably would have let it go but things like this keep happening since I’ve been a child and they refuse to apologise for it or even acknowledge that their behaviour was totally rude and that it is another instance of them not taking me seriously when I am upset. Call me weird but I think that being family or friends does not give anyone permission to be rude. It also was not a playful or sarcastic comment. It was 100% meant like that and said like my existance is a waste of space. It doesn’t matter if that was the actual intention behind it (I don’t even think so) and they’re an adult who should know.

So I comment this and they immediately know, turn to our cat and say how good it is that she, the cat, doesn’t hold grudges unlike me. I am not saying this lightly but… my parent actually respects the cat‘s autonomy and boundaries and if they didn’t maybe she would react more like me because that’s not the same way I have been treated. I hate this. I hate that I am not joking.

Now this is snippy but I ask if maybe it had occurred to them that I hold grudges that much because my parent has almost never actually done things to protect me or be on my side, neither in my childhood nor in my grown-up life. By that I don’t mean give me everything I want but rather basic things like respecting my boundaries and actually helping me enforce them when others like strangers or family members etc are crossing them. (I have my entire life been unnecessarily criticised by my parent and always been asked to compromise my own set of boundaries/well-being/need for protection in favour of others.) Then they come with the whole dramatic spiel again of how many things they have done and do for me which I never acknowledge and am never thankful for, that I‘m always just complaining and they have already apologised for they things they have done wrong. Also all not true. I am very thankful for the support I actually have received, make a point to express that as much as possible and literally tell them every time this is brought up that this is not mutually exclusive and you can still do good in many aspects and do harm in others. Additionally I have rarely received apologies for anything but even when I did their behaviour would not reflect that.

I am so done with this. I hate it so much. I can’t even have a proper conversation with them about these things without having them escalate it to yet another conflict and it constantly feels like I‘m fighting a teenager.

[zafirosreverie]

i have an idea wednesday addams meeting reader who has a melanie martinez, maybe fran bow aesthetic, or this tiktok account's aesthetic https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSedsmvSe/ (because pastels), and reader's family also has that type of aesthetic, addams and reader's family meet? i don't know if you take asks or requests but i just had an idea and i wanted to share it with the class

this is what I call a magnificent contribution !! Thanks for sharing it with the class, you have an A +

Also, thank you so much for letting me write for another fandom!! I hope you like this little fic <3

Devil likes pastel color (Platonic Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

“Hallo!” you smiled as you approached the black haired girl next to you. 

In the month you have been there, a lot of classmates have approached you, wanting to be your friends and making you feel welcomed, because a new girl in the school was always a rare but awesome thing, and you were so nice and lovely, the kind of person everyone would want around. 

Everyone, except Wednesday Addams. The girl wasn’t rude to you, she just didn’t talk or even see in your direction, which you respected. You find her fascinating, but after the first attempt to befriend her, where she commented on your “utterly horrible and eye burning clothes”, you stopped trying. You laughed it off, of course, but never bothered her again.

Too bad the teacher didn’t care about Wednesday’s wishes at all and paired you with her for the next project. Well, you could always try to make this a pleasant experience for both of you. Which would be easier if the girl would even look at you.

“How are you?” you tried again

She remained quiet. You started to feel a little awkward, but your parents taught you to be patient with people.

“So...what do you think we should do for our project?” you asked and smiled again. 

“We can see how long it takes a wolf to eat a small human” she finally answered. 

You were making progress!! Good! And this was something you actually knew about, so it was amazing! Too bad you didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice, nor caught the hint about you being the small human. You totally missed her threat.

“Well, it depends. Wolves usually eat 3.3 pounds of meat per day, 22 if they’re starving. So, I’m guessing between 6 and 43 days, depending how angry is it” you smiled. 

Wednesday frowned and finally looked at you. You had listened about how she could make anyone fear her with only looking at them, but to you, it was a victory. If you were honest, she was the most interesting person you’ve ever met. 

“How much do you weigh?” she asked and raised an eyebrow.

This time, you understood the meaning and couldn’t help but giggle. She was so cute. 

“Enough to feed a growth wolf, that’s for sure” you said “But I doubt Akela would allow any other wolf near me” 

The other girl blinked and her whole posture changed. She even turned so she was fully facing you this time. Second point to you!

“You have a wolf?” she asked

“Oh yes, he’s such a good boy, always protecting us from people who get too close. I think he still has a hand on the basement. Not sure whom it belonged to. But don’t worry, he’s sweet with the people we like” you finished with a huge smile. 

By the way Wednesday’s face changed from annoyed to interested, you knew you had her full attention now.

_________________

“Can I help you?”

You smiled when a lovely tall lady in a black dress greeted you. It had been a month since that project you and Wednesday did and you two became good friends since then. Everyone at school thought it was odd, because you two were total opposites, but for you it only made your friendship even better! Besides, your pastel dresses always looked better with Wednesday’s black ones, you made each other stand out.

Yet, this was the first time you came to her house. At first, she said she’d prefer to work at your place because that way her younger brother wouldn’t bother you (even if the idea of Akela attacking Pugsley was tempting for her), but then it was just that she enjoyed the way you and your family treated her, 

Don’t get it wrong, deep inside she loved her strange family, but being the older (and better) child meant her parents would usually expect too much from her, and you were a single child, which meant you and your parents would give her all your attention. Besides, she discovered your parents were amazing. 

They shared your same pastel aesthetic, but also your creepiness. You weren’t cruel, far from that, in fact, she’d often find your manners and sweet talk too cloying for her taste, but there were times when a darker side of you would come out, usually if you were in trouble or danger, and those, those were her favorite moments. When you’d get all psycho and murder. She found it kind of cute.

There was only so much her parents could teach her, but your parents were still a box of surprises and she loved learning new ways of using knives, chains, poison or raising spiders. But after a month of getting to know you all, she decided it was time for you to meet her family too. 

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Addams” your mother said, with a big smile “We apologize for any inconvenience, we’re just here to leave our little princess”

The woman frowned but before she could say anything, a man with a funny mustache and a cigarette approached her from behind.

“And who are these people with a horrendous sense of fashion, cara mia?” he asked.

Your parents laughed and this time your father presented you all in a better way.

“We’re the Y/L/Ns. Our little princess here was invited to your lovely house” your father said.

“Mother, father” a voice came behind the Addams “I invited her”

You smiled when Wednesday approached you all with a small smirk. She never smiled the way you or your parents did, but her smirk was still a nice touch. It fit her. 

“This is Y/N, and her parents, Y/F/N and Y/M/N” the girl said.

This time, the Addams seemed to understand and opened their eyes in realisation. 

“Oh, so this is the girl you kept telling us about, dear Wednesday” the woman said “Our apologies, we weren’t expecting you to have such...tastes in clothes” she said.

You and Wednesday looked at each other and smirked. You two knew what her parents would think about your family’s aesthetic, it was the same the black-haired girl thought at first, but you had the hope that, just like their daughter, the Addams could see past the pastel color and build a good relationship with them. 

You knew your parents would at least try.

___________________

“I think nuts could cover the amoniac” you casually said “Mom could help us bake some cookies”

Wednesday didn’t look up from her book, but you could see her rolling her eyes and smirking. 

You were right, your parents and the Addams quickly got along despite the initial suspicion from the goth family. And now it was common for you to spend days and nights at the Addams mansion or them visiting your place (although this was less common, since they didn’t like to go out too much). It was like having a second family! But despite getting to know them all now, Wednesday was still yours and your parents’ favorite.

That’s why you were a little mad about the current topic. 

It wasn’t rare for people to call Wednesday a freak or other names, but it never bothered her. She knew who she was and didn’t let anyone unimportant affect her. But you were another story. You hated people who judged others only because of their looks, it didn’t matter if they called you pretty or wanted to be your friends only because you seemed nice, if they dared to disrespect Wednesday, they were automatically on your black list. 

But even then, it was a thing to call other people nasty names (which was still wrong, but you could ignore it), and another too different was to try to punch her (thank god she was strong and stopped their hand before it could hit her face). 

You tried to fight them, but Wednesday just picked you up (again, she was really strong) and pulled you out of there. Needless to say, it surprised everyone at school. Nobody thought that sweet Y/N could be so scary or that creepy Wednesday would be the calmed one. 

If only they knew it was like that 60% of the time. 

“Ok, ok, what about a tea party at my house and I accidentally let Akela out?” you asked and smiled when the wolf under Wednesday’s feet looked at you, ready to follow orders.

“We would have to clean the blood from the carpets” she said “besides, that kind of junk food could give him indigestion” she finished, caresing Akela’s head. 

“Fiiiiiiine” you pouted “but I still think the cookie are a good idea”

The black-haired girl didn’t say anything but the smirk was all you needed. Both of you sat down in silence, enjoying the books on your hands, when something hit your window. It wasn’t a mystery who it could be, especially when other water balloons followed the first one. 

“Hey freak! Come show your face!” someone outside yelled.

You looked at Wednesday, but she only rolled her eyes and shrugged. Akela was alert and you could sense the change in the mood. He knew something was wrong, he could feel your anger. 

“Seems like they fell for the beauty and the beast explanation, uh?” she said and you frowned.

You had heard the rumors about her being some kind of witch who put a spell on you to control you, given that there was no other explanation as to why you would like to be friends with her. It was stupid and made you mad that they think you couldn’t make a choice for yourself or that they seemed to think about you as a fragil doll. Were they really stupid enough to believe it?

“Well, let’s show them who the beast really is” you smirked as you walked out, with Akela following you.

[fallinfl0wers]

hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!

Literally baby-sized trouble.

summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><

Diluc

He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.

Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.

He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.

But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.

After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.

Very supportive and very protective!

You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.

If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><

He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><

You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.

But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(

He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3

But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.

You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...

He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;

So you two will have to think about a name again!

In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!

Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!

He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...

But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.

But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.

At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.

He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.

What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.

You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.

All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.

However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.

Scaramouche

He thought you were joking, so he laughed.

When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.

He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.

After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."

Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...

This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.

He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.

It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-

It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.

He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.

Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.

Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.

But...

"Now what?"

He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.

He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.

But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!

Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!

Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.

And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.

It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.

And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.

Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.

(Her first word was "papa!")

Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!

Kazuha

"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."

So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!

Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!

Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.

He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!

That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!

He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!

He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!

He's still a bit worried, though.

He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...

He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.

But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.

You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><

He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!

"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.

While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.

He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!

He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!

Xiao

You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.

It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.

So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.

"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.

It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.

He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(

Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.

He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.

Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.

He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.

He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.

Okay so that aside-

How do people care for babies?

What is he exactly supposed to do?

And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?

He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.

Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.

Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.

He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.

He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.

Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.

When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.

He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--

He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.

He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...

The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.

The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.

And he cries more.

You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!

Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.

But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.

Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.

Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.

The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.

The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.

His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.

[tinyyoungblood]

hi!! adore your work love. could you maybe do smth where stark!reader has to get her wisdom teeth out but HATES the dentist so she brings her boyf peter and her dad w her?? and then when they get home the avengers are all waiting with like comical amounts of flowers and stuffed animals and then reader says some funny shiii and thor thinks she’s like dying lol. idk if that made sense but i’m getting my wisdom teeth out soon and i’m scared😭 thank u so so much love u babe

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: tysm lovely :,) i rushed through this like my life depended on it, but i hope i’m not too late. either way, i hope you’re okay! it’s frightening but those bad boys gotta go because we don’t need that kind of energy in our lives. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

wisdom teeth? more like wisdoom

y/n has to get her wisdom teeth removed and it’s the singular most dreadful thing she’s ever had to do, which says a lot because her dad is tony richling stark

doing dreadful things she doesn’t want to do but still somehow end up doing just because she can is a personality trait at this point

no one really makes a big deal out of it since ~death~ is part of their job description, but y/n is terrified

and when a stark is terrified the only thing that will keep them one step from insanity is researching the hell out of it

that information will be info dumped into every conversation for the next few weeks leading up to the appointment

“y/n you need anything from the store?” "no thanks, did you know the side effects of getting your wisdom teeth out include ✨sudden death or blood clots✨ tho” “……..i have a coupon?”

the day of the appointment, peter comes along and literally doesn’t let go of y/n’s hand. he keeps touching her to let her know that he’s there and it’s so. adorable

he would rest his hand on her knee, gently stroke her back while holding her, or just play with her hair

happy drops them off and he’s too Cool™ for emotions but he knows y/n’s a wreck, so he just fist bumps her with a single nod and she almost breaks down bc it’s really affectionate

y/n is sitting in the dentist chair and genuinely nothing is happening yet, but she’s squeezing peter’s hand like it’s a sponge

peter might have a high pain tolerance but he’s in pain pain and he prays that his hand won’t just explode on him

the dentist notices how peter tries to keep it together and chuckles

“you okay there, son?” “yea it’s fine, had a better time when a building fell on me tho haha” “pardon?” “oh i mean i didn’t have a good time, i just had a better time”

because y/n is running Anxious Town™, the dentist gives her a sedative to help her relax 

plus, an injection of local anaesthetic to numb the tooth and surrounding area

she doesn’t feel anything and it’s GREAT

the procedure is quicker than expected and now the real fun begins

she tries to walk but she falls down so peter scoops her up bridal style and happy stays glued at her side

y/n doesn’t mind although she literally doesn’t recognise them and they’re practically strangers to her

but girly sees an opportunity and tries to flirt with peter bc why wouldn’t she

“you’re pretty” *blushes* “why thanks” “you should let your girlfriend know” “i should let her know i’m pretty?” “so you do have a gf? :(” “yea it’s you” “:)”

they stop for gas and peter goes in to get some water for y/n, and in her infinite wisdom, she decides it’s burger time

her mouth is completely numb and she’s practically leaving a trail of drool behind her, but she’d kill for a burger right now

so she wobbles around aimlessly for an hour on some random parking lot as if the ground might just magically open up like a rabbit hole and lead her to five guys

she’s going places. not back to the car. definitely not five guys. they’re closed. but places

peter finally finds her and he’s drenched from head to toe in sweat. he doEsn’T wAnt tO tALk abOut iT tho so she lets him take her to subway instead

normally, she would know that peter’s usual subway order is bread-lettuce-jalapeño

but in her drugged-up state, it had simply slipped her mind so now she’s staring at him like he’d just murdered someone right in front of her

“that- that’s your order?? no meat or anything just bread, lettuce, and a little spice?”

meanwhile at the compound, sam and steve are ordering everyone around bc they want to decorate this place before y/n gets home to surprise her

they take it very seriously too. they’ve watched like one HGTV show and said it’s our time

they finally get home and tony gives y/n a big hug, asking her what took so long

happy tells him that she was keen on getting burgers bc apparently someone has taught her that stressful times call for ~cheeseburgers~

he proceeds to look at tony with a pointed look

tony just shrugs and goes “she was a problem child. we don’t mention her dark past”

she’s swaying on the spot and keeps grinning like a fool and thor just stares at her weirdly before elbowing bruce and whispering loudly,

“what’s wrong with her? is she dying? should i start collecting leaves, i know this remedy—"

no one can tell if y/n is just happy to see the newly decorated home or if she’s just delighted to see everyone but then she goes around hugging the entire team

she doesn’t even acknowledge the sky-high pile of teddy bears and flowers everywhere bc she’s just squeezing everybody

y/n is so high, she just starts to spill all of her feelings about everyone and they’re already so overwhelmed by the hug chain they can’t take this too

“wanda i just want you to know that you’re like my big sister and you’re always taking care of me and i know you and vision are just going to make such good parents one day”

“bucky you absolute PRICK, you FIEND, you’re the best chess player ever and that’ll never change and i wouldn’t be good without you, i hate to say it but you deserve happiness even after you made me lose five times in a row yesterday”

“dad, you’re so strong and smart, even though we’re like never on the same page, you’re always along for the ride, i want to be like you when i grow up, i swear i’m gonna try to be as good to the avengers as you were to us” “aww- wait makes you think i'll be the first to die“

“nat you’re such a bitch about your protein shakes but you’re my best friend and i wouldn’t have it any other way, you can try out as many make up looks on me as you want”

“bruce, brucey, i would live with you in your lab for the rest of my days if i had to, whenever you ask me to hand you stuff i feel useful and important”

“laura’s way out of your league clint i have no idea how the fuck you got her but don’t lose her and i want to be your next child’s godmother”

“steve…we’re your family now. we’re always gonna be your family now. okay?”

“loki you’re not fooling anyone with your attitude, we all know you’re part of the family, you were just misunderstood and messed up bc of your dad–FUCK him by the way–but i realised everyone deserves as many chances as they need because of you”

“sam i would genuinely kill anyone who wronged you, even if they cut you in line at the grocery store, i would knife them no hesitation”

“thor, you poor golden retriever have been through so much, on my way here i made a wish on an eyelash for you bc you deserve better, your postcards always make my day, love you”

she mumbles something to peter that no one else can hear but he blushes and chokes back a sob

y/n orders hot soup and bucky brings it to her but before he even has time to react peter drops everything and ZOOMS across the room in .3 seconds

he barrels into bucky so hard they both go flying, but peter just smoothly rolls out of it and onto his feet like some kind of super ninja

“DUDE WHAT THE HELL” “😠 y/n is not supposed to drink hot liquids 😠”

all of this happens in mere seconds but sam has filmed it all and now slow mo clips go viral online of some mysterious kid knocking over the winter soldier

y/n’s a little in and out after that, but when she fully regains consciousness, she’s on a pile of blankets, surrounded by the team on the floor <3

* * *

let me know if this is actually comforting lmao stay hydrated pals

hc masterlist

[radiant-reid]

Perfection

It was the first time Y/n had slept in weeks. Thankfully, her job conditioned her to sleep an inadequate amount. But having a newborn was a whole new, difficult challenge.

Maisie Pippa Reid was proving difficult. Somehow Y/n and Spencer had managed to apprehend the most dangerous criminals in the United States but, they could not get their daughter to sleep.

She was only a few days old and proving a challenge for the new parents.

Much to Y/n's delight, Spencer had agreed to take the night shift so she could get some rest. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out, sleep taking over.

When she woke up, it was 6 in the morning. Probably the first 7 hour night she'd gotten since her second trimester. She did think it was odd the apartment wasn't filled with baby screams.

Spencer and Y/n had been married for 5 years, and she trusted him with her life. She was also fully confident in his fathering abilities. But, she did assume she'd be waking up to screams.

So it was odd when she didn't. She got out of bed, straightening it out before taking a walk to the nursery.

Spencer had painted the whole thing, insisting on Y/n not smelling the paint fumes, despite knowing it was highly unlikely to hurt their baby. It was no surprise he was going to be protective, knowing all the facts about how babies could get hurt.

He had already read all the books he could get his hands on when JJ was pregnant. But he was extra protective with Y/n.

The room was lavender. He maintained it wasn't because of his own personal fondness for the colour. Y/n did believe the study that showed it relaxed children, but so did several other colours.

Still, it was perfect. The ideal nursey with the most well-built crib in the world. Built by Maisie's godfather, Derek Morgan, with her father's help to make sure it was safe.

Y/n could hear the soft Beethoven as she neared the room, careful to keep her movements quiet. While it was Spencer's favourite, he assured her Maisie needed to listen to it to promote the connection of her neurological pathways.

When she peered around the open door, there was a shirtless Spencer. He lay on the couch in the nursery. On his chest, a sleeping Maisie. Despite how slim he looked, he was quite muscular.

Still unaware of her presence, Spencer continued to caress the little girls face. His soft fingertips trailing from her forehead down to her nose and across her cheek.

"Hey, what's happening in here?" Y/n made her proximity known. Spencer looked up at her, the happiest smile on his face. Even on their wedding day, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen him so happy. Notably, because of how tired she presumed he was.

"Hi, love. We're doing some skin to skin contact." His voice was thick from not using it. "Look at her."

Y/n walked close to the father-daughter duo, admiring their little girls face. She knew every parent thought it, but Maisie really was the cutest baby she'd ever seen.

She couldn't help let Spencer know how she felt. "She's so beautiful."

He nodded quickly, looking up at his wife. "I just can't believe any of this is real."

"I know," She agreed. "I feel the exact same." They both fell silent as they admired the perfect little girl, who came from two imperfect parents.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Spencer asked, breaking the silence and looking up at Y/n.

She was sure she was. They had been together for 8 years there was no way she wouldn't be. "She's the most perfect baby in the world."

"Oh, good. I thought it was just me thinking it." Spencer said with a light chuckle. His chest moving up and down made the little girl fuss. "I know every parent thinks their baby is perfect, but she actually is flawless." That made Y/n let out a little giggle.

"She gets better every time I look at her, I think." Y/n mentioned, still not understanding how something so small could have her so whipped.

Spencer nodded, taking hold of Maisie's fingers. Y/n would never stop thinking about how good his hands looked, slender and veiny. "Look how small they are. They're just the most adorable thing ever." Y/n hadn't ever seen him this soft. Ready to give Maisie whatever she wanted.

"I think I like her nose," Y/n mentioned, leaning down to trace her finger over it. "'S just like yours. I hope it stays like that." She continued before running her finger over Spencer's perfect nose. He scrunched it under her fingertips, causing laughter to coarse through her.

Spencer's smile never came off his face, dimpling his cheeks as his wife traced over them. "Do you think she'll get my dimples as well?" He asked hopefully, moving his finger to her cheeks.

"I'm seriously hoping she does," Y/n confirmed. "Honestly, I hope she's 100% you." She couldn't help admire her husband. From the wrinkle in the middle of his eyebrow to his barely-there moustache and his sharp cheekbones, he was the definition of perfection.

"I'm not sure how I'm ever going to repay you," Spencer spoke honestly, his attention now on Y/n. "You've given me the best gift I've ever received, and I don't think... No, I know, there isn't anything I can ever do that will be as good as this." His words melted her heart, turning her to mush. Maybe two people had Y/n wrapped around their fingers.

"Spence." Y/n cooed, running her fingers through his coffee-coloured curls. "She's 50% you, well maybe more." She giggled.

Spencer shook his head, his smile fading. "I didn't do any of the hard work." He retaliated.

"Baby." Y/n sat down, so she was at Spencer's eye level. "You painted this whole room, read every single book you could find- I think you knew more than some of the doctors in there- found all the OBGYNs and have been there every step of the way. I don't think there's anyone else in the world that would go that far." That wasn't even 1/100th of the ways Spencer had helped Y/n throughout her pregnancy.

A soft smile lit up his face again, and she had never been more pleased to see it. "Still." He reached out to grab her hand. "Thank you."

Y/n smiled back at him and their perfect daughter. "I could just watch her forever."

Spencer agreed. "But, she is going to grow up." He reminded her somberly. If he had one wish, it would that they stayed in the moment forever. After all the bad he had witnessed, he never wanted the innocent child to see anything horrific.

"Don't remind me." Y/n playfully glared at him. "'Just always want to have a baby."

"I can do that for you, love." Spencer reminded her, a cheeky smirk now on his face.

"That is exactly the hard work I need you for," Y/n told him before she realised her mistaken words. "That's not what I meant." It didn't matter, Spencer was already laughing at the sexual innuendo.

Unfortunately, it woke up Maisie. She immediately started screaming. Spencer knew how it was possible, but he didn't understand how such a long sound could come from such small lunges.

Y/n picked her baby up off Spencer, walking her over to the chair to breastfeed.

"Can I stay?" Spencer asked hopefully. He enjoyed having his own skin-to-skin contact with the baby, but Maisie's connection with her mother would always be unique.

Y/n nodded. "As long as you're not cheeky." She sent him a pointed look which he just laughed off.

Both of them were still amazed about how perfect the moment was.

Tag list

@la-vie-en-amour1 @bingereid @measure-in-pain @archer561

[idy-ll-ique]

Sweet Little Love.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Lil Angst

Warnings: brief mention of violence

Requested: nope

Summary: The Y/L/Ns are a well-off family in New York, and are good friends with Sam Wilson. One day Y/N is threatened by a stalker and needs a bodyguard, so Sam suggests Bucky. Bucky doesn't want to do it; the last thing he wants is to deal with a spoiled, bratty rich girl for a whole month. The only thing is, Bucky has terribly misjudged her and now he can't help falling in love with her.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! the last scene is just a small bonus crack!scene sjsjsjs lmao, enjoy!

---

If there was one type of person Bucky liked, it was someone who was kind, polite, helpful and caring… and Bucky knew the person he was going to work for was going to be none of those things. "Sam, come on, man, I don't want to do this," Bucky groaned as he followed his best friend down the street. "I already promised, Bucky."

"Why did you?! I don't want to spend my whole day around spoiled little brats, they're the worst!" Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, number one: You have to look after only one person and number two: Why don't you just meet her once? Then you can decide for yourself, how about that?"

Bucky had been hired by one of Sam's friends, Mr Y/L/N, as a bodyguard for his daughter. He didn't know the daughter at all; but the one thing he was sure about was that she was going to be a pain in the ass for him, like in every single movie about rich girls and bodyguards. Mouthy, petty, sassy, rude…

He was in no mood to deal with someone like that.

Ms Y/L/N, he assumed, had been sent some threats over a week ago by a stalker and so the poor father was worried sick as he frantically searched for bodyguards. Sam was also informed and before he knew it, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was hired. To be honest, the Y/L/Ns were paying a lot so… since he had given up Avenging, the income would be great.

Plus, she only needed protection for around a month or so. Speaking of the daughter, how old was she even going to be? Maybe a child below 10? A rebellious teenager? Who knows? "Alright, stop here. She's supposed to be here somewhere, let me call Y/L/N." Bucky huffed and looked around the crowded streets as Sam contacted the father.

That's when his eyes landed on a lady. She was beautiful; wearing what looked like a tennis skirt and a university hoodie, along with sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a braid and she had a bright smile on her face. Bucky blinked twice and watched. Her body or clothes didn't catch his attention, but her actions sure did.

She was chatting with another, older woman who had coffee spilled all over her white tee. The young lady was holding a baby in her arms, bouncing the sweet child as the older woman hurriedly tried to clean her clothes. Through his super-soldier hearing, he caught their conversation. "I'm so sorry to bother you like this," the woman sighed.

"It's okay, ma'am, you are not a bother. You were clearly in need of help and you know how New York is…" Both women giggled. The older woman soon left with her child but the young lady continued standing there, looking around, as if waiting for someone. Probably a boyfriend, Bucky thought.

"Why is he not picking up?!"

Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam before looking over at the pretty lady again, who had started bouncing back and forth on her heels, glancing everywhere. That's when a loud wail echoed above the already busy street. The lady's eyes snapped towards the voice before she took off running towards a little boy who had tripped over.

The little kid was blond and scrawny, reminding Bucky of a little Steve. He smiled fondly at the memory. "Are you hurt, bubba?" Y/N asked the kid adoringly as she helped him stand. The boy's lower lip wobbled as he tried to hold his tears in but was unsuccessful. "Aw, come here…" Bucky gulped when the lady got on her knees and hugged the child.

She's so kind.

The kid hugged back just as eagerly, sobbing into her shoulder. Soon, two adults approached her; a gay couple, the parents of the kid. They, too, watched with appreciation as the lady easily calmed the kid down with her soothing presence. An involuntary smile bloomed on Bucky's face; if he was in that kid's position, he'd have stopped crying too. The lady was wonderful.

"Thank you so much, honey," one of the men grinned when the lady stood up, dusting her knees and giving the kid a smile. "Oh, it's not a problem! You know what?" She dug around in her purse and pulled out a lollipop. "I always have some on me. I'm a big fan. You?" The boy giggled and eagerly accepted the candy.

"Steve, what do you say?"

Bucky almost laughed. The kid's name was also Steve? Amazing! "Thank you!" Steve exclaimed with a bright smile, making the lady laugh. "No problem! Have a good day!" She waved at the family of three before returning to her original place, standing outside a café. Bucky was enamored at this point.

"Any luck?" he drawled, glancing at Sam who shook his head. "That dick," he grumbled under his breath and Bucky grinned, getting back to watching the pretty lady but she was nowhere to be found. He looked around until he saw her crossing the road, an old man holding her arm with one hand as the other held his walking cane.

She was on his side of the street now, just a few feet away from him. "You are an angel, darling," the old man crooned as he patted her cheek, letting go of her arm once he was safely on the other side. An angel indeed, Bucky smiled to himself. "Oh, sir, I try…" she spoke bashfully, turning in his direction as the man left.

Bucky quickly averted his gaze, he didn't want to look like a creep. "Sam? Sam, is that you? Wilson!" Bucky froze at the lady's voice, her footsteps nearing the place where he and Sam were standing. Wait, is that...? Sam looked away from his phone, eyes lighting up as they landed on the lady. "Y/N? When did you arrive?" Bucky watched as they hugged.

"Been here for a long time, dad said you were going to introduce me to my bodyguard today. He's a good friend of yours, right?" Sam turned and motioned towards Bucky. He stepped forward. "Hi, I'm James Barnes," he introduced himself, holding his hand out. He couldn't believe he had called this angel a spoiled, rich brat.

I'm never gonna forgive myself.

"James, nice to meet you! I'm Y/N Y/L/N. Thanks for doing this, I'm probably going to be a burden—" He immediately shook his head. "Oh, no no no, don't say that! I can tell we're going to be good friends." He winked and she couldn't help but giggle. Bucky didn't even correct her on the name, something about the way she said it made a shiver run down his spine.

"Well, um, do we start now, or…?"

"Your choice," he interrupted, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat as he stared at her, heart swelling with affection. "I already feel safe," she half-joked, "Start now. I have a few places to go to…" He was ready to follow her to Hell and back. "Of course." Both of them turned to Sam, who had a knowing smirk on his face.

If it were anyone else Bucky would've given him his infamous glare but Y/N? He was hoping for a connection. "You two enjoy your date— I mean, day. Anyway, what's up with your dad, girl, he's not picking up my calls." Bucky rolled his eyes at the slip up. "He's not? Maybe he's in a meeting. If you want you can go visit."

"Gonna do just that, tell him that his precious little daughter is in safe hands." Y/N looked at Bucky with a huge smile. "No doubt about that! It's getting late, I'll see you later!" Y/N started walking away and Bucky immediately followed with a nod towards Sam. "Hey, um, I saw you, you know?" he blurted out.

"Saw me? Doing what?" Y/N blinked. "You helping the lady with the child, the kid who tripped over— Steve, his name was? And the old man you helped cross the street. I just wanna say that was amazing. You're a great person, Y/N, I'm honored to be your bodyguard." She gasped softly and looked away, chewing her bottom lip as she grinned, cheeks heating up.

"Oh, um, it's just— I like to help people. It's how my parents raised me. Yeah, we might be rich but I'm not spoiled. Lots of people think that when I tell them I'm Mr Y/L/N's daughter. It hurts sometimes, you know? People just assume anything about you without even knowing you. That's why I try to be good. I don't want to be a bad person," she rushed out, unconsciously voicing all her insecurities.

Bucky's heart sank in his chest as he let out a dry chuckle. "Ugh, just saying this is gonna make me throw up but I assumed that too. I thought I was gonna work with a spoiled, rich brat. I was horribly, horribly wrong, I hope you can forgive me, doll." She turned to him, but she wasn't mad in the slightest. She even started getting a tiny crush on him, I mean, hey, the man is eye-candy. "It's fine! I forgive you, you didn't know."

"No, it's not fine. I shouldn't have made assumptions, I feel like the biggest ass in the world," he scoffed, looking away from her. "James, please, it's okay. You know now, right? Don't feel bad! Why don't we stop for a coffee on the way?" How could he say no to that?

---

2 weeks passed. Y/N and Bucky became incredibly close friends; Bucky went as far as revealing the truth about himself, how he used to be an Avenger, how he lost his arm, everything. What he didn't expect was her to cry at his story. "You did not deserve to go through that, they did you so dirty…" she sniffled and he hugged her like his life depended on it. It kinda did.

God, if he didn't fall in love the first time they met, he was definitely in love now. "Doll, I'm here now, aren't I? All good— well, maybe not all good." And his face broke into the biggest grin ever when he heard a chuckle from her. "I'm glad you're here." Just those 4 words and Bucky vowed that he was never gonna let her go.

"I'm getting coffee, you wait here. Don't go anywhere else."

"Aye aye, Captain!" Y/N laughed and he smiled back as he entered the café. Y/N stood outside, typing away on her phone when someone suddenly grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her into the alley next to the café. She couldn't even scream, breathing was difficult with his hand around her neck.

"We finally meet, sweetheart." Oh, God, it was him. The stalker. Y/N whimpered, struggling to get out of his arms but he only tightened his hold on her. Bucky, Bucky please— Over time, Y/N had grown fond of Bucky. He still asked her to call him James, he said it felt good when she called him that. So she did.

He was so protective of her, almost like she was his girlfriend. He was also handsome; incredibly so, with his stormy blue eyes, his tall and broad figure and razor sharp jaw. His first priority was always her and it made her warm inside. She'd decided to ask him out at the end of the month, but it was looking a bit difficult now.

"Your bodyguard not with you today? What happened, lover's quarrel?" the man smirked tauntingly as Y/N's vision blurred due to lack of oxygen. She blinked back tears, crying again when he tightened his hold on her neck. "Scream all you want, sweetheart, no one's gonna hear it," he laughed.

"Try me."

The man's head whipped to the side only for Bucky's metal fist to connect with his jaw. He fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious at the first punch. Y/N slid down to her knees. Her hands went to her neck, coughing and dry heaving. "Doll? Doll, come here." Bucky felt immense guilt as he gathered her in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards his car.

He left her alone. That was the one thing he wasn't supposed to do. "James…" Y/N wheezed, curling closer to him when he tried to put her in the backseat. "Doll, you have to get in," he insisted but she shook her head. "Not without you. Please." Bucky sighed and got into the backseat, holding Y/N against his chest.

She was pretty shaken up. "I'm so sorry, Y/N." He felt himself tearing up. "No… not your fault… you… coffee… I wasn't… phone…" Bucky handed her a bottle of water when she wheezed again. "Drink up, baby," he whispered as he held the bottle to her lips because she refused to let go of his sweater. After drinking some water her throat felt better.

"Don't go, please, I need you," she sobbed as she completely curled against him, wetting his sweater as she cried in his arms. "You will always have me, doll. I'm not going anywhere. Not again," he assured her as he rubbed her back, wiping his own tears away. All of a sudden, she pulled away and pressed her lips to his. "I love you."

He pulled her in for another kiss, fireworks exploding in his head at the confession. Only two weeks had passed but they were both sure about their feelings. "I love you too, doll. You're mine now, only mine," he groaned against her lips. "Only yours," she agreed, burying her face back in his shoulder as he pulled her impossibly close.

"You're not getting out of my sight ever again."

And he kept his promise.

---

"And then I— where do you think you're going?" Sam blinked as Bucky abruptly stood up, eyes trained on his wife. She gave him a smile and walked out of the room, Bucky following her out like a puppy. "To the bathroom, Sam!" Y/N called out behind her and Sam turned to the parents, blinking in confusion as they roared with laughter.

"Why does she need him there?" Sam asked "Oh, haven't you heard? Bucky hasn't broken the promise he gave Y/N 6 years ago," Mrs Y/L/N explained vaguely. "What promise?" Mr Y/L/N laughed once more. "He told her she was never getting out of sight after the incident. And well…" Y/N and Bucky returned at the exact time as Sam made a face.

"Don't you get tired of him?" Sam groaned as Bucky sat down, pulling his wife on his lap. "Oh no no, it helps that she's as much in love with him as he is with her. They do not get tired of each other," Mrs Y/L/N shook her head with a fond smile. "It helps that he's handsome and aesthetically pleasing to look at," Y/N crooned, squishing her husband's cheeks as he laughed and swatted her hands away.

"Even in the bathroom?!"

"He stands outside as a guard," she shrugged. "Damn. Y'all are weird," Sam muttered, barely catching the book Bucky threw towards him. "Not weird. Just looking out for her, like I promised," he muttered, cheeks flushing. "You do know that the threat was 6 years ago, right? Six!" Sam threw his hands up.

"What if there's a new one?" Bucky countered exasperatedly. Sam only shook his head at the couple before a smile broke out on his face. "I've never seen a couple so in love. You two are cute," he commented as laughter filled the room. No more threats, no more danger.

Just a sweet little family and their sweet little love.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[comfortwriting]

Through Thick and Thin - A.S

Anakin Skywalker x Fem Reader

masterlist, requesting rules, guidelines, taglist

About: When Obi-Wan learns of Anakin's turn to the dark side, he goes to Y/N to try and find him; what he gets instead changes everything and Anakin gets the answers he's been waiting for.

A/N: this is my first time writing in months, please be kind! Need to get back to my flow lol

Word Count: 2057

Warnings: murder, death, blood, mention of parent loss.

"He killed younglings, Y/N!" Obi-Wan stressed, pacing around the room "Tell me where he is, I beg you."

You stared at your husbands Jedi Master, contemplating if you should tell him the truth - betraying your husband and revealing his whereabouts or to lie and protect him. After all, you knew what Obi-Wan was going to do.

You knew that Anakin was capable of taking lives, especially the lives of women and children after he murdered the Tusken Raiders - you weren't afraid of him when he confessed and you certainly didn't shame him for it; you could understand his anger, his hate, his need for revenge.

Anakin's back was facing you, he stared at the wall, hot tears streaming down his face.

"I killed them." he paused, catching his breath "I killed them all. They're dead, every single one of them."

Anakin slowly turned around to face you, his face stained with tears, his eyes glassy and red.

You stared at him, trying not to judge him for what he had done - knowing that if you did, you would be the biggest hypocrite known to man.

"And not just the men," Anakin inched closer to you, shaking his head "but the women and the children too."

You froze.

Women, like you.

Children, like the ones you adored at the Jedi Temple, children you dreamed of having with Anakin.

Part of you died hearing his confession, but you remembered how you felt when you were finally left alone in a room with your fathers killer. You too would've killed his wife and the other women and children in their village. You would wipe them all out.

"They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals." Anakin started to raise his voice, his pearly white teeth shining in the light "I hate them!"

Anakin dumped himself to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest, more tears falling from his eyes; you placed your hand against his face, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

"It's okay to feel angry, it's okay to hate them after what they did." You said softly, casting circles on his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm a Jedi," his eyes searched yours, his hand reaching for yours, holding it tightly "I know I'm better than this."

You sighed, kissing his hand softly "Don't let what you've done define you, Ani."

"How can I come back from this?" He asked in frustration "How can I move forward if Obi-Wan is holding me back!"

"You find a way," you encouraged him "even if it means going against him... and the council."

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" You asked quietly.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, he swallowed hard and looked at the pale lilac carpet.

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to be the death of me?"

"Don't say that Master... You're the closest thing I have to a father... I love you. I don't want to cause you pain."

"He has slain younglings, Y/N! I saw his callousness with my own eyes!" Obi-Wan raised his voice, "Anakin has sided with Palpatine! He's the sith lord!"

You started to laugh, waving your hand.

'Of course, Obi-Wan and the council are pinning this on Palpatine, making him the bad guy.' you thought.

"It's funny," you speak up swinging your right leg over your left knee "you and the council painting Palpatine as evil."

The Jedi Master stared at you in horror and couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth - his heart splitting into tiny fragments, the young girl he raised was defending the chosen one - the young boy who had grown up with bouts of pent up hate and anger, and turned to the dark side.

"Palpatine is the only person other than me who truly cares for Anakin, who never lectures him for his feelings, who never holds him back."

Obi-Wan felt sick.

"I don't know where he is," you lied "even if I did, I'm not telling you."

"Don't make this harder for me than it needs to be," Obi-Wan warned you, remembering the Jedi Code, pushing his memories with you and Anakin aside.

You didn't flinch, instead, you sat back down on the sofa, staring at the beautiful sparkling wedding ring on your finger.

"I don't want to go back," you sighed, dragging your feet through inches of deep, sparkling snow "I've missed being home."

Anakin nervously fidgeted with the ring box in his pocket, practising his words over and over and over, making sure he got them perfect, his body freezing, his hair full of snowflakes.

"I'm so thankful you came here with me, Ani." You smiled, "My dad would've loved you."

Realising that Anakin wasn't following you, you stopped in your tracks and turned around, finding your boyfriend down on one knee.

"Ani-"

"From the day we met, I have never been able to shake you from my mind and heart."  

Your eyes filled with tears and your goggles started to steam up.

"I never got to ask for your father's blessing, but that won't stop me."

You focused on the ring, realising it was the same one that your father always showed you as a child, with his plan to give to you in hopes that you would pass it on to your children.

"Y/N, my love, will you marry me?"

You nodded your head, removing your glove, exposing your warm skin to the freezing air that instantly started to nip at your skin.

"Yes," you smiled, more tears falling from your eyes "I will marry you, Anakin."

"Your father would be ashamed of you, you're becoming the very thing he hated, you're sleeping with the enemy!"

The rage you once felt started to ignite deep inside you as Obi-Wan tried to sour one of the greatest moments of your life.

You stood up, and walked over to him, staring him down.

"You know better than to bring up my father, Obi-Wan."

Anakin tried to catch his breath, stumbling backwards in extreme pain, the sound of your screams ringing in his ears. You were hurt, probably dead with the amount of pain Anakin was experiencing.

His heart started pounding, his ears ringing, feeling sick to his stomach - you couldn't be... could you? who could've done this? why?

"I have these nightmares..." Anakin opened up to you "what I see, happens."

You stroked Anakin's head, your fingertips massaging his scalp, your lips brushing against his neck.

"I had them about my mother before she died, I wasn't strong enough to save her."

You stopped massaging his scalp, and pulled away, looking into his blue eyes - full of tears that pooled up over his waterline.

"You are strong and you get even stronger the more you learn and experience," you paused "I was strong - not strong enough to save my dad, but now I probably would've had a better chance of doing so. We move forward."

Your fiance nodded his head, pursing his lips and kissing you softly, still emotional when he pulled away from the kiss.

"I don't want to dream of you like that- I don't want the nightmares - I can't... I can't lose you..."

You shook your head, cupping Anakin's face in your hands "You won't lose me, Ani."

Anakin didn't know but he would soon find out, killing the last of the separatist leaders on Mustafar, he boarded his ETA-2 Jedi Starfighter and set off in a hurry; desperate to find you.

You were in utter shock.

Your hands trembling, your forehead burning, the room closing in on you yet expanding at the same time and your throat like sandpaper from your constant screaming.

It all happened so fast - Obi-Wan striking for you, your leg being severed off faster than you could realise until you fell down and all you could feel was agonising pain, and the smell of burning flesh filling the room, the blood boiling in your veins.

You sat on the floor, your back propped up against the back of the sofa, dragging yourself across the floor proved difficult since you stopped practising your upper body workouts.

Looking across the room, your eyes landed on Obi-Wan, no longer breathing - how you did it? you didn't know - you managed to take control, more power than you ever had in your life, your fury spitting inside of you begging for release.

Do you feel guilty? Now that you think about it, no.

Obi-Wan attempted to end your life and he would take Anakin's life too.

Bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead, you wiped away the beads of sweat, your chest rising and falling.

Anakin jumped out of his Starfighter, his hood shielding his face, his long strides bringing him closer and closer to you, his eyes no longer a beautiful shade of blue, but like the two suns on Tatooine during sunset.

She can't be. Y/N can't be dead. Not now. Not ever.

Getting closer and closer, Anakin could sense death, pain, and suffering.

The door swung open as Anakin stormed in, searching for you frantically until his eyes landed on your amputated leg in the middle of the room, his face drained of all its colour.

Your screams came back to him, the searing sound of Obi-Wan's lightsaber severing your leg, the loud thud as you fell to the floor and then the walls shaking, everything shaking, your yells, Obi-Wan's voice breaking before his body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Anakin glanced over to his Jedi Masters lifeless body and stared, his eyes burning holes into Obi-Wans back, wanting nothing more than to revive him just so he could have the pleasure of murdering him for what he had done to you.

You peeked your head out from behind the sofa, "Ani," you winced, "I'm back here."

Anakin rushed to your side, his eyes pouring with tears as he searched your face and body for more injuries; the sight of your wound hurt him deeply.

How could Obi-Wan do this to you? How could anyone do such a thing to the chosen one's wife?

"Are you-are you-"

"Ani," you tried to calm him down breathlessly "just my leg, nothing-nothing else."

Anakin scooped you into his arms as gently as he could, you held onto him for support, moving one of your arms around his neck, your tear-stained face hiding in his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your ear comforting you.

"I thought you were dead," Anakin croaked, carrying you away, his robes hiding you in his arms.

"Obi-Wan came to me, he needed to know where you were so he could kill you," you admitted, "he told me that you killed younglings."

Anakin slowed down, you pulled your head out of his chest and looked into his eyes.

"Did you believe him?" Anakin asked, his tone harsh.

You paused for a moment, slightly afraid that Anakin might drop you.

"I know that you have killed children before," you replied quietly, "he told me that Palpatine is the sith lord... that you are his apprentice-"

"What do you think of Palpatine?" Anakin's eyes rummaged through yours.

She can't turn against me - she won't. I won't let her.

"I think that he's the only other person aside from me who has ever encouraged you to show your emotions, to use them to make you stronger."

Anakin's eyes fixed on your face like glue "what if he is the sith lord, and I have joined him? what would you think of me"

You sighed, closing your eyes, imagining the perfect life with your husband; you and him never in harms way, children of your own growing up without a clue of what it's like to lose a parent, to be a slave.

"I would encourage you to overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy,"

You opened your eyes, everything coming back to you, your father's death, how it felt to slaughter a whole family.

"make things the way we want them to be."

Anakin gripped onto you tightly, a prideful grin spreading across his face.

"Everyone turned against me but you." He said softly, kissing you.

"What if you hate what I become?" your boyfriend stressed, pacing up and down.

"I could never hate you, Anakin," you walked over to him, linking your arm with his metal one"I'll be with you through thick and thin."

tags: @autobotrosestark

[untaemedqueen]

Snowed In

Best Friend!Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Best Friends To Lovers, Huddle of Warmth, Domestic!AU, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Mega Fluff, Marking, Impregnation Kink, Thigh Slapping, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Possessive!Hoseok, Ab Worship, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Belly Bulge, Multiple Orgasms, Doggy Style, Spanking, Cream Pie

WordCount: 15k

A/N: Okay! MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS! I’m super super lucky to have all of my darlings in one collab with me! Always a shoutout to my loves @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​, @xjoonchildx​ and @underthejoon​ for rooting me on always! Shout out to @hobi-gif​ for beta-ing it and literally helping me learn English lmfao. My other loves @snackhobi​ and @yeojaa​ rooted on the idea for this fic and helped me flesh things out and I’m so lucky I’m constantly surrounded by such amazing people!

Seasons for most people inspire and bring delight with every change of color on leaves in high up trees. Yet with you, you always hated all the seasons and everything they stood for. Until you met him. Or let him in anyway.

It sounds corny and ridiculous. It probably is.

People always deemed you cold hearted or uncaring and it was all true. But he brought love to your heart. He made colors brighter. He made the world seem bigger and better than you ever noticed before.

He was always around, even if you didn't want him to be. You had some friends from childhood that insisted on keeping him around. He was kind and eager with everything that he did. And it annoyed the ever living crap out of you.

But you slowly opened up that iron cage around your heart and let him in. Even if it took him ages for you to let him in, he was determined.

You never understood why it always turned terribly cold the day before Halloween. It was a constant as well as surprising. But, what was probably more surprising was that people couldn't give a bigger fuck about frigid temperatures when they had revealing costumes to wear.

"I don't wanna go!" you whine to Taehyung as he takes off his shirt. Rolling his eyes, he throws the fabric perfectly on the top of your head before thrusting his fist up in the air.

"Score!" he cheers loudly as he grabs the top of his costume.

You ball up the tee-shirt in hand before chucking it at him with a sneer.

"Kim Taehyung," you mumble as you look back down at your phone.

"You have to go. Do you want me to not get pussy? Is that what it is? You have an agenda against me? A no pussy agenda? That's fucked up Y/N. I can't even believe you!" He rants as he slips on his top.

"Oh my God," you murmur as you lean back against the headboard of his bed.

Knowing this man since you were six -- nothing has changed. He's been by your side through thick and thin. He has always been a fearless best friend and a fierce fighter for you.

You've never liked people but the one person you've really only cared for has been Kim Taehyung. And, Park Jimin -- but he's a different story entirely.

"Jaemin is going too, you don't want to see your own boyfriend?" Taehyung asks as he stands in front of his mirror.

You look up slowly from your phone only to catch his gaze through the mirror. "Jaemin is his own person. He can do whatever he wants without me having to be by his side like glue."

Taehyung snorts gently as he combs his fingers through his hair.

"Man, I don't know how you keep relationships. You're so mean. Jaemin has a strong heart to be with you," you give him a fake smile as you flip him your middle finger.

"Not everyone needs to be as coddled as you do, Tae," you reply as you stand up off the bed.

"Hey. I'm only so needy and clingy because my parents didn't love me as a child," he says as he puts hairspray in his hair.

You snort gently at his words before the door of his dorm room opens.

"Tae!" you hear Hoseok cheer and you internally sigh.

In your first year of college, Hoseok was in every single class you signed up for. You saw him for multiple hours a day and he was so nice -- so completely nice, that it was terrifying.

No one should be so kind and selfless but that's just who he is. Once Taehyung and Jimin had met him, the trio that you’d always been had turned into some bizarre foursome that you didn't quite care for. You were used to the other two around, but with Hoseok you just became uncomfortable. Maybe it's your crippling anxiety or your extreme awkwardness.

"Hey Hoseok!" Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs his pants.

Hoseok looks around the room before spotting you. His smile seems to widen -- if that's even possible.

He is incredibly handsome. His eyes always seem to sparkle with an energy you've never really seen before. Jimin calls it allure, Taehyung calls it kindness.

“Y/N! Hey! Happy Halloween!” He says happily as he enters the room.

His costume is simple, just a leather jacket, black t-shirt and black ripped jeans with a Scream mask hanging from his neck but it’s nice.

“Hey, Hobi,” you reply, your voice is wrapped with dull tones. Sitting back down on the bed, you look at your phone for a distraction.

“What’s your costume?” he asks as he sits down beside you.

“She’s going as herself. Because, that’s the scariest thing this world can offer,” Taehyung jeers as he puts on his eyeliner.

You give a fake laugh as you lock your phone. “Wow! Tae, you’re so funny! You get all the girls with your quirky humor?”

Hoseok laughs beside you, the sound is endearing to hear, unfortunately. But, you do find yourself giggling as Taehyung flips you the middle finger right back.

“I don’t like Halloween. Or any holidays as a matter of fact… or people,” you tell the cute black haired boy beside you. He hums understandingly as he folds his arms.

“It’s cool to be introverted,” he replies softly which Taehyung scoffs at.

“Not my Y/N. When she’s with me, she breaks out of her shell, right?” you hum uneasily as Taehyung enters the bathroom.

“Because you make me!” you retort loudly, lifting your body off of the headboard of his bed to call out to him. You huff out as you lean back before folding your arms and looking at Hoseok.

“How do you deal with him?” you quip as he looks up at the ceiling.

“He was your friend first,” he replies, a gentle smirk settling onto his features before turning his head to you.

“Touche,” you mutter as Taehyung throws his pajama pants at your head from the doorway of the bathroom.

Going to parties was certainly not a hobby for you. They’re loud and the environment usually smells like stale beer or high proof vodka. People stumble or shove you out of the way in their drunken stupor. It’s usually a gigantic mess.

But, if you must, you go to parties with your two best friends plus one Jung Hoseok, who is too kind for his own good.

Exactly what you hate is right before your eyes as you all pull up to Jimin’s frat house. The music is so loud, you can practically feel the bass beneath your feet as you step onto the front lawn. Already, there are strewn Solo cups on the ground and girls in tiny costumes. Which doesn’t bother you as much, you dress how you want to dress but it’s just so fucking cold!

You see him in passing, your boyfriend flits away before you can even call out to him. He looks good, really good. Sometimes you’re surprised he asked you out first. His hair is coiffed and you know his costume is supposed to be a zombie jock, which isn’t far off from what he normally is. He’s gigantic compared to you, the quarterback of the college football team and sitting comfortably at six foot five. He’s incredibly handsome and he’s yours. Which is bizarre because you never even thought he noticed you at all around the college green until last year.

“Lee Jaemin!” Taehyung calls out to him as he grabs a beer.

You cringe as Tae calls him, he shouldn’t have to come over if he doesn’t want to...

“Oh shit! What’s up guys!” Jaemin cheers loudly. You can hear the slur already in his voice.

He gives high fives to everyone before planting a sloppy, yet quick, kiss to your lips.

“So, where’s your costume?” Jaemin asks you as he pops the top of his can open.

“I don’t like Halloween, you know that,” you mumble as he ruffles your hair with a chuckle.

“You don’t like anything, baby. Except this dick.” He kisses your hairline before walking away leaving you all on your own.

You scratch the back of your neck uncomfortably, before looking over at Taehyung and Hoseok.

“I’m sorry,” your apology is weak as well as your voice.

God, you and Jaemin are so different sometimes.

Taehyung passed you a beer with a gentle scoff and you can tell that he's holding his tongue.

Cracking open the beer, you take a long sip before staring at the frat house.

"I'm sorry I made you come." Tae apologizes softly as your blue haired best friend begins to bolt towards you all.

You grumble softly in response before groaning as Jimin bum rushes you. Knocking all of the air out of your lungs, you cough loudly as he squeezes you tightly to his body.

"Happy Halloween! You bunch of assholes!" he cries happily as he shakes you around in his arms.

"Get… off!" you wheeze out, slapping his arm with all the strength you can muster.

Once he lets go, your free hand drops to your knee as you gasp for breath.

"You okay?" Hoseok asks softly, a goofy smirk on his lips as he presses his hand to your shoulder.

You give a thumbs up weakly before coughing loudly and standing upright.

"LET'S GO PARTY!" Jimin yells loudly across the lawn as he throws his arms up in the air.

You watch as other drunken college kids cheer along with him and you roll your eyes as Hoseok squeezes your shoulder.

You've managed to avoid conversing or dancing throughout the night which seemed like the only highlight so far. The typical pushing and shoving from drunk people to get places was the norm so far. You've been offered blunts and other varying drugs that you politely refused.

Finally, you found an empty couch in the large living room for you to become a loner in. Watching the drunken couple get up from making out to take their affairs elsewhere, you swooped in like a hawk to sit like a marble statue.

You spot Taehyung, his arm high up on the wall as he cages a girl between his hips. They're talking (more like screaming at each other over the loud music) and you lean your head back on the couch as you watch them.

Tae has always had an effervescent personality ever since you were very little, so it's no surprise as he holds his hand out to the random girl and she takes it willingly. You'll have no ride home tonight, you find yourself thinking.

Jaemin hasn't come looking for you once since you saw him on the lawn. He was a partier, you were not.

"Hey!" you hear someone scream to your right.

Looking to the owner of the voice, you give a small smirk as Hoseok flops down beside you.

"I was looking for you!" he calls into your ear as he passes you a Solo cup.

"Why?" you reply confused as your eyes focus on his handsome face in the dim lighting of the living room.

"Because I knew you'd be all alone!" he quips, elbowing you gently with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, the corners of your lips turning upward and you bring the Solo cup to your mouth.

"It's like watching a group of crazed monkeys jumping around!" He jokes as you both watch people dance.

You can feel yourself giggle softly, you couldn't hear anything soft above the music.

There's silence between you two for a bit, but it's comfortable. You can feel his thigh pressing into yours gently as you both watch people moving along with the music.

"Where's Jaemin?" Hoseok calls once more and you shrug flippantly as you take a sip of the mixed drink.

Vodka and cranberry.

"Did you make this?!" you ask him as he throws his arm over the lip of the couch.

He nods with a smile before raising his own.

"It's my favorite!" you call back to him.

"I know!" he replies happily before looking back at all the people.

He's so thoughtful, it's bizarre. Taking another swig of the drink, your eyes catch Jaemin walking up the stairs to his bedroom. Not even a minute later, a girl follows with a knowing smile set on her face.

Your eyebrow raises at the sight and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.  Sitting up slightly, Hoseok follows your gaze and he practically blanches at what you could possibly be thinking.

"Excuse me." you call to him as you stand up.

"Y/N! Wait!" Hoseok screams over the music but his voice gets softer as you weave through all the people dancing.

You feel his hand curl around your arm and your first instinct is to pull away from him. But, he keeps his grip steadfast.

"Stay with me." Hoseok pleads in your ear.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you rip your hand away from him. You grip the banister of the stairs.

As you look up at the second floor landing, it seems more daunting with each and every step.

"Yo!" Jimin cheers as he climbs up the stairs with you.

"Gonna go get your freak on?!" he jeers. Hoseok is quick to elbow him in the ribs, sending a cautionary glance his way that shuts him up quickly.

"Y-Y/N?" Jimin asks as you clutch tighter onto the staircase banister. Your knuckles turn white and you have to focus on your breathing as you ascend further.

You can’t even begin to respond as you reach the top of the staircase. Your mind is running a mile a minute.

Sure, you and Jaemin weren’t attached at the hip but you’ve been dating a year. He never even has given the hint that he was getting tired of you or bored of your presence. Although you could be completely different at times, you were happy when you were together. You didn’t need to see him every day to feel complete, you thought you both were okay.

“Y/N. You don’t have to do this.” Hoseok says as he grabs the Solo cup from your hand.

You can barely hear him above the sound of your heart beating in your ears.

Everything is muffled, even the high volume music that pumps throughout the house.

You spot Taehyung, making out with the girl from earlier outside Jimin’s bedroom. He catches you out of the corner of his eye and sees how ghostly pale you’ve become, his blood runs cold at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” he yells as he leaves the girl on her own.

Swallowing thickly, you ignore him. Your feet are slow and sluggish but you make your way to Jaemin’s room without a second thought.

Your hand shakes as you reach for the door knob. You can hear loud, bitter whispers from the men behind you as you clamp down on the metal in hand. Taking a deep breath, you thrust the door open.

You take your boyfriend of a year in your sights, his hands on the random girls hips as she straddles him. Apparently, they wasted no fucking time getting naked.

Your eyes flutter shut at the image now burned into your corneas. And, you feel as if a hole has been punched through your gut.

Upon opening your eyes, you see your boyfriend's head angle towards the door. His sideburns are caked down with sweat and with narrowed eyes he finally makes out your figure in the dark hallway.

“Holy shit! Hey, baby!” He yells out surprised as he shoves her off his lap.

Just hearing his voice, how it’s meant to sound playful brings tears to your eyes. Your nasal passages burn with bitter intent and you look down at the floor as he sits up.

“Hey, Y/N! Listen, I-” you’re shoved out the way by Taehyung and Jimin who advance towards the quarterback with venom dripping from their gaze.

“You fucking asshole!” Taehyung screams as he punches Jaemin in the face.

You feel arms wrapping around you, none other than Hoseok’s as he pulls you away.

“Chill man! It’s fucking college! You think I was going to just stay with your introverted little creepy friend for the rest of my life?!” you hear Jaemin scream as Hoseok tugs you towards the staircase.

You decided to walk home, even though it was freezing outside. The sharp breeze chills you to the bone and sets your mind alight as you trudge through the brown, crinkled leaves that line the sidewalks.

Hoseok has stayed by your side throughout the walk and thankfully, he hasn’t said a word. You were mad at yourself for crying. Stopping every so often to wipe bitter tears off your cheeks as you folded in on yourself.

He can see you shivering as you get closer to your dorm and he tugs off his leather jacket. Swinging it over your shoulders, he hooks his arm around you before pulling you into his chest.

You feel too dead inside to move, but the warmth and comfort of his body is nice.

“You don’t have to talk. But, I will.” Hoseok says as you finally reach your dorm.

Opening up the door for you, he waits as you scan the keycard to enter the building.

Once safely in the elevator, you shrug off his leather jacket before handing it back to him with a small murmur of a thank you.

You feel lucky that your dorm room is a single, because tonight you would not be ready to deal with a roommate.

Stepping inside your dorm, you make your way over to your bed before sitting down with a huff.

Hoseok, the handsome, kind man that he is sits in front of you. He crosses his legs and all you can see in his eyes is sorrow.

“You are so amazing. You’re too fucking good for that piece of shit asshole. You deserve so much better than him. Even if you come off rough around the edges, you’re kind to your friends and you care deeply about things that are important to you. You’re smart and confident in what you do know and you’re a force to be reckoned with. Fuck him if he doesn’t appreciate you. There are plenty of people in the world that do. Me being one of them,” he says as he puts his hands on your knees.

You weren’t in the mood for nice comments but the way that he says it, with such conviction makes you feel almost lighter in a way.

You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out.

“You don’t have to talk, you don’t have to entertain me. I’m here for you to make sure you’re okay.” Hoseok says gently as he runs his hands over your knees.

Maybe you’ve been too harsh with him. Maybe he was someone you wanted in your life. He’s helped you in ways you didn’t even think you would need tonight. He’s dependable.

"Thanks, Hobi." you manage to whisper out.

It was a nickname you made for him and only him. And, only you could use it.

"You can lay down if you want. I won't leave you alone, unless you want me too," he says softly.

You didn't know if you could handle being all by yourself right now after the night you've had.

"Stay," you whisper as you take off your hoodie.

He gives an understanding nod as you lay down on your bed. Pulling the covers over you, he sighs gently as you close your eyes.

You never really understood until now why Jimin and Taehyung brought Hoseok into your group. Of course, he was kind and fun to be around but he was dependable and just a genuinely good friend.

"Sit," you tell him as you push yourself flush against the wall, turning onto your side.

Hoseok seems to be fighting within himself for a second before he's kicking off his shoes to sit up against the headboard beside you.

He brings his knees up to his chest before wrapping his arms around them. You've noticed him doing it several times in the past. It's endearing to watch him do it every time, like he needs to make room for something.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the horrible scene from not too long ago. You really, really liked him. Even if you weren't the best at showing it.

"I thought we were okay. I know that sometimes I can be difficult to be with b-"

"Y/N," Hoseok interrupts you. You look up at him as he angles his face down towards yours, "There is nothing wrong with you. This is his fault. I'm not going to sit here and let you beat yourself up over that fucking douchebag."

You hum unsurely, as your fingers pull at a stray strand of fabric that sticks out from your comforter.

"I just… I don't date people because I'm not confident or anything and look what happens," you reply hopelessly as you turn onto your back. Staring at the ceiling, your eyes flit from one glow in the dark star that you and Jimin stuck up there to the other.

"You're beautiful. Not just your face, but your being is beautiful. Confidence isn't easy to gain but you should have it because you deserve it. You're pretty wonderful." Hoseok says as he looks up at the ceiling with you.

His words are warming, like chicken soup when you've got a cold.

"Thanks for being my friend Hobi," you say as you close your eyes.

"Thanks for being mine," he replies, knocking his foot playfully into your hip.

The bedroom door swings open with your two best friends and you sit up on your elbows as they file in.

Taehyung's knuckles are cut up, dried blood flecks his costume and his fingers. Jimin is the same, but a stream of dried blood is apparent from his nose and your eyes widen at the sight.

Tae looks over you before jumping onto your body.

You groan loudly as he manhandles you. He wraps his arms around you into a bear hug before peppering your cheek with kisses.

"I'm so sorry," he cries out as you push at his shoulders.

"Get off me!" you whine, slapping the bloody shirt away from you.

"What happened to you?" Hoseok asks Jimin.

"Jaemin hooked me when I told him that he's no longer welcome in Alpha Sigma Tau." Jimin spits at the simple mention of his name and you feel your heart almost as light as a feather as he winks at you.

Hoseok high fives Chim before looking back up at the ceiling shaking his head.

Maybe being a weird foursome is better than a trio.

Being on campus as the quarterback's ex-girlfriend is uncomfortable and a hard pill to swallow. But, it's easier with the three lunatics you call best friends.

"Help me pack!" you hear Taehyung complain as you lean against the headboard of his bed.

Hoseok throws a pair of briefs at him before grimacing.

"Why should we help you pack when you didn't even invite us?" Jimin quips as he lifts his head from the hardwood floor.

The younger best friend scoffs loudly as he throws his skiing goggles into his suitcase.

"Believe me, if I could bring you all to the Swiss Alps -- I would. But, you know how my parents are."

You do in all honesty. Taehyung belongs to one of the richest families in the area and his family is quick to dismiss others who are not of their similar standing. You were lucky that your mother was his father's assistant and the same goes for Jimin with Taehyung's mother.

"What are you doing for Christmas, Jimin?" Hoseok asks curiously as he leans back against the headboard beside you.

"I'm going to France with my younger brother. Our mom got us a good deal at the Four Seasons." Jimin says flippantly as he fixes his varsity jacket.

Hoseok hums before nudging you, "What about you?" he asks softly.

Your heart pangs uncomfortably as you look at your different colored socks.

"I'll probably just stay here for Christmas. I was supposed to spend Christmas with Jaemin and my parents are going out of the country so I'll be here," you reply as you look out the window.

You can see the sudden snow flurry sticking to the bare branches of trees and the windowsill of Taehyung's bedroom window.

You didn't realize just how fucked up your holiday plans would be after Jaemin cheated on you just a month ago.

"Oh. No way." Hoseok mumbles softly and you clear your throat uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry Y/N." Jimin whispers as he sits up.

You shrug as Hoseok puts his hand on your shoulder.

He looks at the other guys before clearing his throat.

"Well… you can come with me for Christmas, if you'd like. You'd be more than welcome," he suggests. Just the thought makes your eyes widen.

"Why would I go home with you for Christmas?" you ask, confused.

You watch the tips of his ears turn red and he shakes his head oddly.

"I mean, it was just a suggestion. You'd be welcome at my house. My parents are really kind," he whispers softly.

Taehyung looks at Jimin and they wink in tandem to one another.

"You should go, Y/N! I'm sure it would be a lot of fun! Better than sitting in your room eating ramen for Christmas!" Taehyung cheers as he throws a bunch of socks into his suitcase.

"I couldn't intrude," you reply softly, looking down at your hands.

Go home with Hoseok for Christmas? Why would you ever do such a thing? Sure, he's one of your best friends but… you would meet his parents. You would sit around the table like a family. That's just… insane.

"You wouldn't be intruding. Plus, my parents know all about you. They'd love to meet you," Hobi says, knocking his knee into yours.

"You tell your parents about me?" your voice is small and distant as you pick at the skin around your nails.

"Of course I do. You're amazing," his voice is enraptured with a breathy laugh and now you can feel your ears starting to warm up.

There's silence for a moment which Taehyung is more than happy to break. "That's perfect! See, Y/N! You won't be alone for Christmas!"

You hum uneasily before looking over to Hoseok as he tilts his head at you. His eyes crease in delight and his expression is one of pure earnestness.

You don't want to be alone for the holidays. Because, when you're truly alone the sadness sets in.

"You're sure it's okay?" you ask him and his smile widens at your words.

"I'm positive," he replies as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

Hoseok was used to your silence by now. It doesn't bother him one bit, it's just nice to know that you're sitting beside him.

With his wrist up on the steering wheel, his eyes glance over and it warms his heart to see you taking in the colorful Christmas lights strung up on houses.

It's a pleasant surprise to him when you speak first. "I didn't buy your parents any presents."

Hoseok lets out an amused chuckle as he focuses back on the road.

"You don't need presents, you are the present for Christmas." he lets out a laugh as you elbow his ribs. "Hey! I'm driving! You maniac!" he yells as you chuckle.

"I'm serious! I need to buy your parents something at least!" you complain as you enter town from the outskirts.

"We can stop at Jeulgeoum." he replies as you continue to drive.

The town he grew up in is very small. Like it's own community. You feel like the Grinch as Hoseok starts to wave at random people that notice his car in the middle of the street.

You really, really hate holidays. Your parents were never excited to spend time with you like you used to watch in movies. Even if it was two days out of the whole year, it was more like a hassle to them.

As Hoseok continues to wave, you find yourself sliding down in the passenger's seat.  You pull your hood up, eyes fixed on the dashboard.

"That's Mr. Lee. He makes the best mochi in the town center. I used to go into town with my sister and he used to make me dance for free pieces of rice cake." his voice is filled with warmth as he recalls the memory. You find your head peeking up to look at the old man and the corner of your lips turns upwards as he waves wildly to Hoseok.

The car slows down and you look over to the handsome boy as he lowers his window.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Lee!" Hoseok cheers out the window.

"You as well, Hoseok. Merry Christmas to you and your girlfriend." Widening your eyes, you pull your hood up. You train your eyes on your jeans as you lower your head.

This was a BAD idea. It hadn't even occurred to you that people would call you his girlfriend. Then, you'd have to waste your breath explaining that you're just friends and why you're with him rather than your family.

"Sorry about that." Hobi whispers as he rolls up his window.

You hum in agreement as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Just try to enjoy yourself. I know that it's hard but you might just have fun," he says softly.

Hoseok seemed to know everyone which isn't shocking. He's so absolutely kind and he did grow up here.

Entering Jeulgeoum, you're thankful for the heat that rushes to your cheeks as soon as you step in.

"My mom likes glass figurines." Hoseok says as he closes the door shut behind you.

There was glass as far as the eye can see and your first thought is do not fucking touch anything. You will not let your clumsiness embarrass you today.

"Welcome to Jeul- Jung Hoseok?!" The warm voice makes you turn your head and you feel yourself relaxing at the older woman as she smiles widely at the sight of him.

"Hi Mrs. Kim! Merry Christmas!" he says, pulling down the hood of his coat.

His black hair is sticking up at odd ends and you notice how endearing it is. His smile is wide, cheekbones bouncing up to the heavens as the woman gasps.

"Oh my goodness! Merry Christmas!" she cheers, rounding the register to get a good look at him.

Awkwardly, you look around at the glass pieces.

"Well you've gotten so big! It feels like almost yesterday I was kicking you out of my shop with the back of a broom." you smirk at her words, you can't imagine Hoseok running in here like a bull in a China shop.

"And who is this?" your heart begins to beat faster and you look at Hobi as his smile becomes warm.

"This is my friend, Y/N." he slings his arm over your shoulder for good measure.

You bow your head to Mrs. Kim taking off your hood. Her chubby cheeks are jolly and sweet as she bows her head back to you.

"Well, aren't you just gorgeous. A friend or a girlfriend?" Mrs. Kim quips as she rounds the register once more.

Her question makes you blush fiercely, your neck heating up quicker than a fireplace ever could.

"Just a friend. A really, really good friend." he replies as his hand drifts over your shoulder comfortably.

Mrs. Kim hums playfully and you feel him tug at your body. "Let's look for something."

Your eyes are enraptured by the glass figures. They're so incredibly detailed and gorgeously cut. It's really a wonderful skill.

"She makes all of these?" you find yourself asking, your hand reaches for a figure but you back away quickly at the simple thought of breaking it.

"Oh, yeah. Mrs. Kim is an artist with this stuff. I made one once when I was younger. Come look." Pulling you down the long aisles, you reach a glass case at the back of the store.

"All of the kids in town could make one when they turned ten," his eyes glance over the figures before he's snapping his fingers and pointing. "That's mine," he says happily.

Your eyes narrow at the small figure and you tilt your head at it. You try to be polite, humming inquisitively as you stare.

"It's supposed to be a…" No words come to mind as you look at the jagged and misshapen pieces that are seemingly glued together.

"It's the Hulk," he says proudly and you nod slowly, your eyebrows furrowing.

"I… see," you murmur to yourself.

"I'm just kidding, this shit is ugly. I have no idea what the fuck I was making," he says and you elbow him in the ribs with a giggle as you stand up straight.

Looking up at him, it's almost as if you're noticing his eyes for the first time. Cinnamon colored irises with flecks of coffee that send a warmth spreading throughout your chest.

"Come on. My mom really likes snow globes," he says with a wink.

The selection of snow globes was actually surprising. The one that catches your attention first is a small boy standing on one leg as he skates around a pond. The town in the background is so tiny and for some reason it reminds you of the man standing beside you.

Without a second thought, you reach for it and you find Hoseok's hand on top of yours.

Pulling your hand away from the warmth of his, you find yourself smiling almost to an embarrassing state.

"Great minds think alike," he quips as he picks it up.

You snort gently, a breathy noise as he inspects the snow globe closer.

"Looks like me," he decided before pulling you towards the register.

"One Jung Hoseok looking snow globe to go please," he jokes as he pulls out his wallet.

"Hobi," you complain as you pull out yours.

Grabbing your wallet, he stuffs it into his back pocket before opening up his.

"It won't be my present if you pay for it!" you whine gently as he leans up against the counter.

"It's from the both of us," he says as he hands Mrs. Kim his credit card.

Rolling your eyes, you watch the small flecks of fake snow swirl around the snow globe. Maybe Christmas with Hobi isn't so bad.

It wasn't a long drive from Jeulgeoum to his family house. But, every inch closer you seemed to get, your nervousness was reaching an all level high.

What if his parents didn't like you? What if you were just intruding on their special holiday plans?

"Hey," Hoseok calls to you as he pulls off of the long road. Rows of houses begin to line the street and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Looking over at him, he slows down the car.

"You okay?" he asks, concerned.

"What? Yes. No, I'm fine," you say quickly and he can hardly believe you at this point.

"Whoa. Whoa," he pulls over the car before turning fully to you.

Your eyes focus on a blown up Santa that seems to sway in the chilly December breeze.

"You're going to have a lot of fun. Believe me, and I know you don't do fun. My parents are really, really nice people. You aren't intruding and you aren't unwelcome. I promise. You'll see," he says as he puts his hand on your knee.

You feel him squeeze gently and you find yourself calming down almost immediately.

"Okay," you whisper softly.

"Okay," he replies as he gives your knee one more squeeze.

Parking in front of his childhood home, you can see your friend relax. Almost as if he's been on a long journey and he's finally comfortable again.

The house is big, Christmas lights strung up from the gutters and down the columns that hold up the facade of the house.

"My mom always goes crazy with decorations," he says as he opens up the car door.

He's not wrong, a multitude of lit up statues litter the front lawn but they're all perfectly positioned.

Your favorite is the snowman standing right before the walkway.

Hoseok smirks to himself as he gathers your bags from the backseat.

"It's pretty," you find yourself saying as you climb out of the car.

Tugging your coat closer to your body, something about this feels sweet. Your parents were never that big into holidays and they always leapt at the chance to go somewhere warmer as soon as the temperature dropped.

You find yourself realizing that you've never really had a true Christmas. Or, one like the movies, anyway.

"Hold your snow globe," Hoseok calls to you as he puts the neatly wrapped package on the hood of the car.

You grab the package, holding on to it for dear life as he slings bags over his shoulders.

You didn't pack much but two bags is still a bit much to have on top of his own.

"I'll carry my bags," you tell him as you walk around the Hyundai.

He frowns as you hold your hand out.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he jeers and you shake your hand almost impatiently.

Rolling his eyes, he gives you your bags and he watches as you haul them over your shoulder.

"I can carry them, y'know. I'm not broken," he says as he walks by your side towards his house.

"I'm not broken either," you counter and he chuckles to himself.

Stepping in front of the snowman, he tugs off his scarf. He wraps the warm fabric around its neck before smirking.

"Now he's ready for Christmas." The act makes you smile and he winks at you as you walk up the long walkway towards the house.

You take large, deep breaths as shadows flit by the windows.

"Just enjoy yourself," Hoseok tells you as he jogs up the steps of the patio.

He checks on you once more, rubbing his hand over your arm before knocking on the door.

The sound frays your nerves as you clutch tighter onto the gift box in your hand.

You can hear animated talking behind the front door. As the door opens, you find yourself smiling as Hoseok throws his arms around who you assume is his mother.

"Merry Christmas!" he cries out happily and she replies with a giggle.

"Merry Christmas, my Seok," he chuckles as he squeezes her tight to his body.

Pulling away, her eyes find yours and the smile she gives is so like Hoseok's you suddenly feel comfortable. Running her fingers through her black bob cut, she looks you over before frowning.

"Yah. Why is she carrying her own bags?" his mother chides to her son.

He narrows his eyes at you playfully before folding his arms, "I told you, you got me in trouble."

With a smirk, you shrug to him.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N! We've heard so much about you! You're very welcome here," his mother says as she hugs you tightly.

It takes you a second, not quite used to parental affection, before you're hugging her back.

"Who's that?! My smelly brother?" you hear from inside and you giggle as Hoseok grimaces.

"Hi noona!" he calls loudly from the doorway.

"Come in, come in." his mom ushers you in and he holds his arm out for you to go in first.

How gentlemanly.

You can smell spices in the air, can hear animated talking and it feels strange to be in such a comforting atmosphere. You've never had this in your life.

"Thank you so much for letting me come, Mrs. Jung." you say softly as Hobi pulls the bags from your shoulder.

Taking off her apron, she clicks her teeth.

"Nonsense. We've heard all about you from Seok, it's like we know you already. And, please, call me Eunsook," she says as his father stands up from the couch.

You're used to sons shaking their fathers hands. Taehyung and Jimin do it on the regular so it's weird to see Hoseok hug his father so tightly.

"Welcome home, kid." he says before pulling away.

Mr. Jung looks over at you, a kind smile plastered on his face as he leans in for a hug.

"Welcome Y/N. Please, call me Baekgu," you nod as he pats your back gently.

"Thank you for being so welcoming," you whisper.

"Okay, let's not overwhelm her. It must be odd to be surrounded by new people. Why don't you both go upstairs and get comfortable. Then, when you come down maybe Y/N can help me make my sugar cookies." Hoseok was raised so well by his folks.

"I'd love that," you reply earnestly.

"Come on," Hoseok whispers in your ear.

Starting to pad up the carpeted steps, he turns his attention to his mother as she calls his name.

"You'll be sharing a room, hope you don't mind. The extra guest bedroom was converted to a home office," your eyes widen as you stare down at the carpet.

"Oh Jesus," you whisper fiercely to yourself.

Hoseok chuckles uncomfortably as he pulls the bags tighter to his shoulder.

His childhood bedroom is nothing like you thought it would be. Most kids, including yourself, had posters covering every inch of the walls but not his room. It's chic and stylish which isn't far off from how he is now.

You can hear gentle Christmas music wafting through the slightly cracked door as you look at his bed.

You've slept in the same room before while studying or if you all drank too much. But, you've never slept in the same bed as him. And, you've never been alone with each other.

"This'll be fun," he sounds confident and you're not sure if he's trying to mask nervousness with his tone.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly as you sit on the edge of the bed.

You hear the bags thump onto the ground and you can hardly believe that you're here.

"They're nice, right?" Hobi asks as he shrugs off his coat.

"So nice, no wonder you grew up so well," you say, earning a smile from him.

"Get comfortable and then we'll head back downstairs. My mom must really like you, not even my sister gets to help her make sugar cookies," he calls as he enters the en suite bathroom.

Looking down at your knees, you find yourself smiling. How have you never noticed how precious he is before?

"Y/N! They're coming out perfectly!" Eunsook cheers delighted as she peeks into the oven.

She's so cheery, it's kind of amazing. Your eyes flit to the open living room watching as Hoseok sits beside his father watching Home Alone.

This is so… normal. So perfectly normal. You've never done this before with your parents. You've never felt 'at home' or comfortable around them and they gave birth to you.

"So Y/N," Dawon, Hoseok's sister, calls to you as she fills up your glass with more red wine, "Hoseok never shuts up about you."

"Noona!" Hoseok yells from the living room without even turning his head.

You smirk fondly as you lean down on the island counter.

"What does he say?" you find yourself whispering.

She tilts her head, fingers carding through her brown hair as she leans in. “Mostly how perfect you are.”

“Noona!” Hoseok yells once more and you find yourself smiling above the lip of your glass.

“Hobi is really great. I’m really lucky to have a friend like him,” you reply.

You feel a hand drift over your lower back as he walks into the room.

“Oh, Hobi is it?” Dawon jeers to him.

“Shut up,” he whispers in her ear through clenched teeth before opening up the fridge and grabbing a beer.

She holds her free hand up, a perfect smile plastered on to her face.

“Hoseok tells us all the time how happy he is to have found such a good friend. But, he never told us how gorgeous you are.” Eunsook says, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel that is over her shoulder.

“Yes I did,” he replies as he cracks open the bottle cap.

The warmth that radiates over your neck makes you clear your throat. He really has spoken about you to his family. It’s pretty special in your opinion. He could talk about so many other things but he chose to talk about you?

“When?” Dawon counters as she sits up on the barstool.

“All the time,” he mumbles as he throws the bottle cap into the garbage.

“All you told me was that Y/N was so beautiful and you’re so lucky that you get to spend time with her even when Taehyung and Jimin aren’t around,” your eyes find him as he pushes his sister with his shoulder like a warning.

“Yeah… Well… Dad? Did you call me?” he asks, craning his neck to the living room.

“No.” Baekgu calls back but you can hear the humor lacing his voice.

“Oh, that’s so weird. I thought you definitely called me,” Hoseok says, pushing off the kitchen island with widening eyes as he scurries back to the living room.

You find yourself chuckling at his antics and you watch as the legs of your thick red wine slowly make their way back down to the glass.

“Hoseok is amazing. You raised him so well,” you tell Eunsook as she pours herself a glass of wine.

She hums in agreement watching as Hoseok sits down beside his father. “Yes. He was always such a good boy. Hopefully he can find a girlfriend that appreciates him like we all do.”

You nod slowly and it’s the first time anyone around Hoseok mentions a girlfriend. You didn’t even think of that. But, just the notion makes you uncomfortable and you gulp a large mouthful of the red wine to steady yourself.

“You’d be a good girlfriend, of course.” Dawon says flippantly as she clutches the red wine to her chest.

“Noona!” you hear Hoseok scream and all three of you laugh gently as the timer dings signifying the cookies are done baking.

Sitting down at dinner, you find yourself staring into the pot of stew as the others talk around you. Why haven't you ever given much thought to Hobi who’s been by your side for so long now? Eunsook bringing up him getting a girlfriend earlier seemed so far beyond your imagination. But, you couldn’t even imagine him being in a relationship. You couldn’t imagine him not being with you or the other guys anymore. You couldn’t imagine him not being by your side.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Hoseok whispers in your ear.

“Huh?” you ask as you turn your head to him.

“Eat.” He murmurs with a smile, nodding his head to your bowl. You hum in response as you pick up your spoon.

You feel his knee press against your thigh and it’s become a constant that you welcome so dearly. It grounds you, in all honesty. Brings you back to reality.

“So, Y/N. Seok tells me that your parents went on vacation for Christmas.” Baekgu says as he sets down his spoon.

Clearing your throat, you look up at him. “Yeah. My parents don’t really like the cold or… festivities so they usually just go away for most major holidays.” You reply as you tuck into your stew.

Eunsook hums curiously and you know you should probably feel embarrassed but you’re already so comfortable here that it doesn’t seem to bother you as much.

“Well, you can come here for any holidays. If Hoseok starts coming without you then I’ll be very sad. You’re a great girl,” his mother says with a smile.

This is family. And, you can’t believe you’ve never really had one before.

Hoseok smirks down into his bowl before pouring you another glass of wine. “See. Told you,” he whispers in your ear.

By the end of the evening, you found yourself laughing loudly and listening attentively which is something that doesn’t come easily to you.

Hoseok probably has never heard you laugh so earnestly and the noise is just as gorgeous as you are.

Leaning back against the arm of the couch, he watches you as you listen to Dawon. God, you don’t even know how amazing you are. But, he does. He always has known. You were in every one of his classes and he found it so difficult to pay attention with you around him.

You were so opinionated. So smart. So beautiful. You were everything he loved and you couldn't even see it.

He smiles as you press your thigh against his knee. Even if he could only ever be your friend, he’d be okay with that because being around you was worth it all. Every single second.

“So Hoseok thinks it would be funny to throw my favorite doll out the window. So what do I do? I threw his action figures up onto the roof and he was crying for hours and hours until dad went up with a ladder to go grab them.” Dawon says animatedly and you giggle along with Eunsook as she tells the story.

Turning your head to Hobi, you find he’s already staring at you. His cinnamon irises are alight with warmth and joy. It makes something bloom inside of you, something so precious and perfect.

“She’s missing out on the detail where I threw her doll out the window because she tripped me up the stairs,” he mumbles as he brings his beer bottle to his lips.

"It was an accident!" she counters from underneath the Christmas tree.

"I was five. Nothing was an accident back then," he chuckles as you giggle, leaning back into the comfort of the couch.

"Yeah, well I was nine and it was an accident."

You hear them continue to bicker as you stare at the fireplace. The embers burn hot, rising high into the air. You watch the logs crackle, small veins burning bright oranges and reds. Feeling Hoseok's hand absentmindedly pressing to your back, you tilt your head to the lip of the couch.

You wouldn't want him to get a girlfriend. You wouldn't want to be without him.

He takes away all your loneliness and your pain. He makes you smile and he makes you happy. He makes you think that just being in his presence, it's like being with someone that's your own.

"Let's go up to bed," he whispers in your ear.

You force yourself to sit up, eyes ripping away from the fire.

"Good night," you tell his parents and they reply with the same.

"Use prot-" Dawon's voice is cut off by Hoseok as he follows you to the stairs.

"Noona!" he calls quickly, narrowing his eyes at her as she giggles.

"My sister can be annoying sometimes. I'm sorry," he says as he closes the bedroom door behind you both.

You smile fondly as you sit down on the bed. "I really like your sister. She's incredible."

He hums with a chuckle as he takes off his shirt.

"Yeah. Okay," he quips back.

Your eyes rake over his toned upper body. The way his abs press against his golden skin has you averting your eyes so quickly. Suddenly, it feels like it's a thousand degrees in here.

"Why'd you invite me?" you find yourself asking as he throws on an oversized t-shirt.

Stopping in his tracks to the bathroom, he turns on one heel to look at you.

"Because you deserve to be with loving people for the holidays or just in general, really," he answers you with a raised eyebrow.

"So you were taking pity on me? I'm a charity case," you whisper.

Maybe it's all the wine or maybe it's just how insecure you truly are but this is coming out of nowhere and you can't stop it.

"What? No. Of course I'm not taking pity on you. I wanted to spend Christmas with you," he replies, confused.

"Really? Because it feels like maybe you're just entertaining me because I had nowhere to go. Maybe you should have brought a girlfriend or something!"

Ah, there it is. It's jealousy. The combination of jealousy and wine is not a fearsome friend to you, apparently.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asks, appalled as he leans against the door frame of his bathroom.

"You should have brought Hana or Jaeeun with you, they like you and want to be your girlfriend," you say as your toes dig into the carpeting beneath you.

He scoffs loudly, his head lolling back at the simple mention of the other girls.

"I don't want Hana or Jaeeun to meet my fucking parents! I wanted you to meet my parents!" he counters as he walks towards you.

"Why me? So I could see what I'm missing in my own family?!" you ask, standing up.

"No! I wanted you to meet my family because I fucking love you!" he yells as he steps in front of you.

Oh.

You blink slowly at his confession. The only sound in the room is his ragged breathing and you stare at his neck as it begins to flush pink.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles, his fingers carding through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

He goes to walk away but you grab onto his shirt to keep him in front of you.

"You love me?" you ask softly, almost as if you can't believe what you've heard.

"Yeah. Of course I fucking do. Don't be ridiculous. I've always loved you, since Advanced Science in freshman year. I was so pissed when Jaemin asked you out before I could. And then I was even more pissed when that son of bitch cheated on you. Because you don't deserve that. You deserve everything. And even if I'm just your friend, I still try to give it to you," his admission is like a loaded hand grenade that's been thrown at your feet.

"Hobi," you whisper and he runs his hands over his face.

"I don't want your pity or whatever it is you think you're going to give me," he mumbles as his eyes flutter shut.

Looking up at his face, you watch his perfectly shaped lips part for breath. You've always been so dense to not realize it. Everything that he does when you're together, it's all for you. It's all to make you smile. To make you happy.

Standing up on the tips of your toes, you press your lips to his. He shudders against your lips, eyes widening for a second before cupping the sides of your head.

He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as his thumbs graze over the apples of your cheeks.

With a gentle sigh, you feel your body relax and melt against his.

He's always been for you. Even if it's taken you this long to understand.

"Y/N." Hobi whispers against your lips confused but you silence him again with another kiss.

He moans against your lips gently, pushing you down into the bed as his fingers intertwined into your hair.

"What are you telling me?" he asks as you run your hand over his arms.

"That I'm yours," you reply.

That was the first holiday he brought love into your heart.

Every holiday afterwards was just as perfect.

He kept up stupid traditions that were so corny that you couldn't help but love. Even making Arbor day special. Yeah. Arbor day. He bought a sapling just for you both to plant on the campus before you graduated so there was always something blooming from where you first met.

He's lovesick and adoring. And, he's all yours.

You loved spending Christmas and Chuseok with him. You've grown to love his family like your own and even five years later nothing has changed. He was so perfectly yours every second of the day.

"Baby girl," you hear from the bedroom. Your head turns to your husband's voice and you smile at how whiney he sounds.

"What's wrong?" you ask as you get up from the couch.

"What sounds better, deck my balls or stop staring at my presents?" Hoseok asks as he holds up two of his ugly Christmas sweaters.

You grimace, leaning against the doorjamb as he smiles widely.

"You are not wearing those to the cabin," you tell him.

With a pout, he tosses the sweaters onto your bed. "And, why not? They're festive."

"They're an abomination. If you wear those sweaters, I'm not sucking your dick until the New Year," you retort as he wraps his arms around you.

"No ugly sweaters. Got it. Yes, ma'am," he mumbles as he leans down to kiss you. Giggling into the kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck.

"I feel bad that we aren't going to your parents this year," you whisper against him and he wrinkles his nose cutely at your words.

"Well, we should have a Christmas all to ourselves sometimes too, baby. We're married now, we have to make traditions for ourselves too," you hum in agreement as he hugs you tightly.

"Can I bring the 'it's not going to lick itself' candy cane shirt?" he asks with a gorgeous smile.

"I will hit you," you threaten as he pulls away.

Holding up his hands, he chuckles to himself before going back to packing your bags.

The journey up to the cabin is peaceful. You stare at the snow covered limbs on the trees as you continue to drive down the long road.

You feel Hobi squeeze your hand and your eyes are on him in seconds.

"I love spending the holidays with you," he says, bringing your hand up to his lips.

With a smile, you angle your body closer to his upon instinct.

"I kind of really love you," you tell him as he looks over at you.

"Such a weird coincidence. I was thinking I kind of loved you too," he jokes as he looks back at the road.

Pulling up to the cabin, you take in the absolute splendor of it. It's so simplistic and so welcoming. Icicles and snow dot the edges of the awning. You breathe a happy sigh, your breath fogging up in front of you signifying just how cold it is.

Pulling your coat tighter to your body, you watch the man you love gather the multitude of bags from the back of the car.

"Let me help you," you insist as you walk around the car.

"Back off, woman. This is your man's job to do.” Rolling your eyes, you fold your arms as he drapes bag strap after bag strap over his upper body.

"Carry this," he says, handing you a bag of groceries.

You feel the light weight of it before peeking inside.

"This just has bread in it," you say confused.

"Exactly. You hold the bread," he says finitely before slamming the trunk down.

Tossing you the keys to the cabin, he looks up at the wooden house before smiling.

"This is perfect," he whispers to himself.

"Fuck, it's cold." You complain as you enter the cabin. The wooden boards creak under your feet as you step inside. It's so homey in here. So completely domestic.

"Can you put the groceries away while I light a fire?" Hoseok asks you sweetly.

You nod with a giddy smile as he throws your bags down on the large bed.

The fake Christmas tree is kind of adorable with lights strung up in the corner as well as all of the gingham patterns that surround you.

"How do I light this?" Hoseok calls and you snort gently as you start unpacking the groceries.

"With gasoline?" you ask confused, tossing stuff into the fridge.

"You want me to blow up the cabin? I got a renter's fee,” he asks appalled and you shrug with a chuckle.

You watch him as he crouches before the fireplace, how breathtaking he is. You can feel your stomach flipping and coiling with each passing second as you stare.

You were his and he is yours.

When he turns to you and he gives you a smile, you can see the small dimple below his bottom lip that sends a smile spreading over your own face.

He's always had the most gorgeous bone structure. His cheekbones are so high and the apples of his cheeks are so plump in all the right ways.

You find yourself leaning down on the counter with your elbows as your fists tuck beneath your chin.

"Hey!" he cheers as the wood catches on fire.

You giggle, watching as he thrusts his hand in the air.

Shrugging off his coat, he stands up tall. His body proportions are so astounding.

Finally, his eyes meet yours and he tilts his head to you. His eyes flutter shut as he gives you a wide smile.

"You're such a bad worker," he jeers as he walks toward you.

You hum in agreement as you stand back up.

He helps you toss the rest of your groceries into the fridge before wrapping his arms around your waist as you slam the refrigerator closed.

"This is perfect," he whispers in your ear, pressing his chest to your back.

With a smirk, you look around the cabin and you find it hard to disagree.

"Everything with you is perfect," you reply as he squeezes you tight.

"Now you're just saying that to flatter me," he jokes into your ear.

Cuddling up on the sofa, you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch Home Alone. It's a Christmas tradition for Hobi you've come to love. He's watched it every year since he was six.

"They've got good reception up here," he announces as you sip your wine.

"Yeah, they d-" Fatal last words as the electricity cuts out.

Hoseok sits up as the cabin creaks loudly with the sounds of harsh blowing winds.

His head turns to the window and you crawl off of him.

"Oh no," he mumbles, walking towards the windows.

Pulling back the curtains, you watch as large snowflakes fall onto the ground.

"It's a blizzard," he tells you with a wince.

Standing up, you sip your wine as you walk to his side.

The snow is piling up generously and you have a dull, nervous feeling aching throughout your chest.

Your husband gets to work, lighting candles around the cabin like it's his job.

"This is what happens when we don't go to your parents’ house," you sing as you help him light a few candles.

"This is going to ruin my plans," he grumbles to himself before throwing another log into the fire.

Opening the front door to the cabin, you can feel the harsh chill as it whips around outside.

"Oh Hoseok!" you call to him and he turns to the doorway before sighing gently.

There's a wall of snow built up at the door and it looks like you would not be going anywhere for awhile.

"We're snowed in," he mutters before running his fingers through his hair.

You decide to close the door as another breeze bursts through. Turning to your husband, you watch as he picks at some skin on his lip.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," you can hear the sadness enrapturing his voice and it's jarring.

It's rare to ever hear him sad. You don't like it.

"It's okay. We can just lay down and cuddle," you say, setting down your glass of wine on the counter.

You open up your arms to him, wanting a hug and wanting to give him some peace of mind.

He pulls you in, cradling your head to his chest with his hand as he looks around the dim cabin.

"I had plans for us. To go out and build a snowman. To go into town tomorrow and watch the caroling," he murmurs, dejectedly.

You hum as you pull him over to the large bed. "Christmas with you is perfect just on it's own. I don't need all those things to be happy. I have you."

It astounds him sometimes how much you've broken out of your shell.

He pulls back the gingham comforter, letting you crawl into bed first. And then, he's quick to crawl in behind you.

His arm wraps around your waist as he presses his chest flush to your back.

Your fingers begin to play with his, staring at the olden looking paintings that line the walls.

"I can remember the first time I ever saw you," Hoseok whispers in your ear as he cuddles closer to you.

A smirk begins to spread on your face as he kisses the shell of your ear.

"It was in Biology. You were wearing a black hoodie and those black skinny jeans. You didn't have a backpack and you didn't even have a pen. You flipped your notebook open and just fell asleep," you giggle at his words, hearing his smile widen with each word he says.

"I did like to sleep in Biology," you quip.

"But, you always passed the class. You never got lower than a ninety on a test. I was jealous, I used to think to myself, 'Damn. This woman is so fucking smart.' Then I saw you in Advanced Science. That's where you really paid attention. You used to twirl your hair and your finger when you were thinking hard about something," you hum as your eyes flutter shut.

The warmth of his breath spreads over your neck as he buries his face.

"I told Taehyung the first day I saw you without even knowing you were his best friend, 'I'm gonna marry that woman. I'm gonna have kids with her.' I was so… enraptured by you," he breathes out as his hand splays over your stomach.

You can only smile as he presses his hips harder to your backside.

"I was so fucking angry when that guy broke your heart… I can't even remember his name anymore but, I can remember how hurt you were. How broken you were and you didn't deserve it in the least. I wanted to fucking kill him," his hand begins to trail below the hem of your shirt and you shiver at how chilly his skin is.

"I was so fucking happy when you were coming home with me for Christmas our first year. You were so nervous. But, I knew you would love my family and that they would love you. I used to talk about you all the time. My mom would ask me how school was and my first thought would be to tell her how much fun I had with you during a study session or something," your eyes flutter shut as his hand ascends.

"Sounds like you were too busy paying attention to girls than to focus on school," you joke breathlessly as you press your ass against his crotch.

You can hear him moan gently against your ear, his perfect teeth graze your lobe and your lips press into a straight line.

"Then you got into that fight with me in my bedroom. Telling me to take other girls home with me for the holidays. I was so angry that you would even insinuate something like that.  And then… then you kissed me. And, I melted. Like snow on the first day of spring," he nibbles on your lobe, his growing erection digging into the globe of your ass.

You moan gently as you feel him grow hard behind you. Your stomach begins to flare with desire. Loins curling with aching need.

"I remember the first time I ever touched your body. You were wearing a blood red thong. Your skin was so flushed for me. Begging me to touch you," his breath is heavier now and you can hear him groan wantonly at the memory.

His hand cups your breast, squeezing gently as he kisses over your shoulder.

"You were so hard," you reply as he presses his now fully hardened erection between your ass cheeks.

"You always make me so fucking hard," he retorts as his free hand pulls yours to his crotch.

"Oh," you whisper breathlessly as he ruts against your palm.

You can feel the thin fabric of his pajamas becoming wet and sticky with precum. Rolling his tongue over your neck, he flips you onto your back.

In the fireplace glow, you watch his black hair fall into his eyes. His pupils blown out with lust, the cinnamon irises you love so deeply growing smaller by the second.

His perfect lips part and his eyes fall to your lips. They linger for a second before he's kissing you passionately.

The tip of his tongue licks over the seam of your lips and you part for him with a whine. His hand grips your breast harder, groaning long and low into the kiss as his tongue runs over yours.

Your hips buck up, your arousal starting to seep from you. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, begging to be filled by your husband.

He pulls away for only a second, taking off his shirt with hurried hands before he's kissing you once more.

Your fingers graze over his golden skin, the feeling producing goosebumps on his body.

You can remember how gorgeous his chest was when you were in his childhood bedroom that first Christmas. How his abs pressed and flexed beneath his skin. Nothing has changed.

Running your fingertips over the plains of his stomach, he gasps into your mouth gently, a carnal needy sound that sends you whimpering below him.

"Oh fuck," he whispers through gritted teeth.

You can smell his gentle cologne as his lips drift over your jawline. He smells of alderwood and citrus. The scent is so wholly him and so perfect.

"Get this off," you hear him command in your ear as he tugs on your tank top.

With a whimper, you sit up on your elbows discarding the fabric and his eyes harden at the state of you beneath him.

"Fuck," he curses before his lips are back on your skin.

Your legs part for him as he situates himself between them. His hands reach behind your back as he kisses down the column of your neck, slowly pulling down your bra straps.

He leaves his marks, pretty red and pink patches that signify you as his.

"I want everything with you. I want it all," he whispers against your collarbone.

"You have me," you reply as you card your fingers through his hair.

"I want to have a baby," he says as he pulls away from your skin.

Your heart begins to thud faster in the recesses of your chest. You've mentioned it in passing, you've commented on it in short spurts but you've never talked about it.

If it just happened, it happened. But, to hear him say it. For those words to pass his lips, you can feel yourself almost becoming euphoric.

"I want you to have my baby inside of you. Want to feel my baby growing in your belly," his voice is almost a plea and your hips lift at the needy sound.

"Yes," you reply.

His lips are on your fiercely once more, kissing your lips red and raw as he tugs off your bra with feral desire.

His hands palm your breasts, thumbs lovingly swiping over your hardening nipples. Gasping into his mouth, he swallows the sound.

He kisses down the valley of your breasts and you can feel his erection throbbing with desire against your clothed thigh.

"God, you're so beautiful, sweetheart," he sounds almost drunk off of his desires and you lick your reddened lips as he lowers his head.

His tongue runs circles over your nipple, your back arches with a moan and he wastes no time sliding his hand beneath your back to hold you up against him.

His lips pluck at your nipple, free hand pinching and rolling the other dexterously between his fingertips.

You feel almost crazy from his love. You can feel the desire pumping through your veins like each and every time before.

"Hobi!" you whimper out as your head lolls back.

"That's it, sweetheart," he whispers above your breast before showing the same treatment to the other.

You feel so hyper aware, especially when his hand glides over your stomach and downward. He pulls at the hem of your leggings, letting the fabric slap back to your skin with a gentle sting. You gasp with anticipation, your hips wiggling at the simple thought of being naked before him.

"Behave, sweetheart," he reminds you and you bite your lower lip, raising your hips patiently.

He kisses over the skin of your stomach, fingers enmeshing in the sides of your leggings and underwear before tugging roughly.

Strings of arousal break and cling to your thighs and your sodden lower lips.

"There she is," he mumbles, throwing your pants over your shoulder flippantly.

His back bows down, arms looping over your thighs locking you in place.

Licking his lips, he looks over your body like you're a meal. Your skin is flushed with wanting and your pussy begins to weep at the sight of him between your thighs.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asks rhetorically, just to hear the words fall from your lips.

You open your mouth to reply but it isn't fast enough for his liking, slapping the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. You mewl loudly, back bowing off the bed as you spread your legs wider.

"I want you to eat my pussy. It hurts," you whine, nestling your fingers in his hair.

He hums gently, watching your breath hitch in your throat. He gives you a smirk, one that sends your sex weeping more for him.

He rears his head back, his index and middle finger splaying open your lips with a V motion.

"Your little clit is so swollen, baby. You want me to touch you?" he teases and you nod enthusiastically as you grip his hair harder.

He groans softly at the feeling, his eyes on your breasts as he spits on your sodden cunt.

You shiver at the feeling, lips parting for air as he watches his spittle mix with your arousal.

"God, you're fucking soaked," his voice is that of wonder. You sink down into the bed as he licks a flat stripe up your swollen cunt.

Whimpering his name, your eyes flutter shut.

"Open your eyes. Watch me eat your pretty pussy so well," he commands.

With opening eyes, you moan loudly as he begins to ravage you. His tongue is so fast against your cunt, flicking and pressing into your swollen clit.

"H-Hobi! Fuck!" you cry out as your legs try to press to either side of his head.

His biceps ripple and strain as he holds you apart, suckling and flicking at your bundle of nerves. You find yourself babbling almost incoherently, begging for more as your hips raise.

"Filthy little thing," he whispers against your cunt, his hand leaves your thigh to finger at your tight entrance.

He teases you for what feels like an eternity before thrusting a finger inside of you.

"So tight," he sounds breathless, his cheeks and lips tainted with your arousal.

The sight is almost a visual overload, your hips buck and a loud whine emits from you as you look down at him.

Curling his finger up, he watches how blissed out you are before him. His cock strains against the fabric of his pajamas and he moans softly against your throbbing bud.

"Tell me how much you want my baby," he commands before spitting on your twitching sex.

You can feel your insides bubbling, your stomach flipping and feeling heavy within you as your orgasm approaches.

With a muddled mind and hoarse voice you reply, "S-So badly. Want to have your baby so badly, H-Hobi. I want to give you a baby."

Pleased with your answer, he slides a second finger into your heat. His fingers brush against the soft patch of nerves within you so fast, you feel the air escaping your lungs at a rapid pace.

"You beg to cum for me, sweetheart. Don't forget that. I own this pussy," he reminds you as he pinches your clit.

He watches your hips roll, he hears his name tumble out of your lips like a prayer and he knows just how close to release you are.

When you give him your pleasure, it's like art. So beautiful and so defined.

"Who does this pussy belong to?"

"Y-You! Only you!" you whine as your eyes squeeze shut.

You can feel the pleasure course through your bones. You can feel your mouth going dry as the bubble inside of you threatens to burst.

"Wanna cum! Please! So close!" you beg as you grip his hair harder.

He can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers rhythmically, begging to release.

"Hold it," he instructs as he pinches your clit once more.

Shaking your head, pleasurable tears spring to your eyes. "Want to cum so badly for you. Want to have my pussy open for your cock and cum."

He shivers at your words, tongue lapping at your arousal like a man starved.

"Hobi… Baby, please! I need to cum!" you beg your husband as he adds a third finger.

He watches your chest heave, your breasts thrust up to the sky with stiff peaked nipples that beg for attention. Was there anyone more gorgeous? He can't possibly think so.

"Cum," he commands and you fall back down to the bed.

You orgasm around his fingers, your moans echo off of the cabin walls as you call his name.

With spotty eyes and deaf ears, you can feel him pull out of you.

You feel drunk from pleasure, your head swimming. Hoseok wipes the tears off your cheeks, entering his cum soaked fingers into his mouth.

He moans at your taste, licking up every drop of arousal he can get.

"Shit, you taste so fucking good," he whispers.

Sitting up on your elbows, you focus on his crotch. His fingers hook into the sides of his pants before tugging them down roughly.

His cock slaps headily to his stomach and you lick your lips at the sight.

Long and thick, his cock stands erect. It's always a welcome sight to see. The way his rose veins pepper the length and the way his bulbous head is a needy shade of pink.

Your mouth waters as the seam of his cock begins to spurt more precum. You watch it traipse down lazily towards his balls with rapt fascination.

"Come here," he whispers softly, sitting back on the balls of his feet.

His hands palm your breasts, fingertips plucking at your nipples as you kiss over his chest.

He sighs so gently, almost in disbelief that you're still in front of him naked five years later.

"I can't wait till your tits swell with milk. I want to taste it," he sounds so hopeful, so absolutely enraptured in his dream.

As you lick over his abs, he takes in a sharp breath through his teeth. His eyes rolling back as he palms your breasts rougher.

"Y/N," he moans softly and you practically mewl at the sound.

You take his cock in hand, feeling it twitch with need. He groans loudly as you begin to pump along his shaft, feeling his velvety smooth skin quiver with wanting.

Hoseok grips your hair, making a make-shift ponytail for you before running his thumb over your cheekbone.

"I love you," his words are so sincere, dripping with ardent desire.

"I love you too," you reply.

Swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, you moan at the taste of his precum. You can feel his shudder above you, gripping your hair harder. Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he whimpers as you slide down his shaft.

Your cheeks hollow and your hand jerks whatever doesn't fit into your mouth, sending your husband above you murmuring your name incessantly.

"Oh shit. Just like that. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Christ," he cries out as you work assiduously on his cock.

His ragged breathing sends your loins unfurling once more, begging to be touched by the man you call your own.

"Can I fuck your pretty mouth? Please," you hum in agreement, eyes fluttering shut as he wraps his hand around your head.

The first thrust is gentle, trying to pry open your throat for him. You sputter gently on him, eyes welling up with tears as you grip his thighs.

"Fuck, you look so hot. I love fucking my cock into your mouth," his thumb brushes away a tear as it trails down your cheek.

His thrusts begin to get rougher, his moans become louder. Lapping your tongue along the base of him, you feel your heart swell every time he moans or curses above you.

"Wait until your belly gets nice and big. I'm gonna use you like a little cocksleeve. Bet you'd like that wouldn't you, sweetheart? Me gripping your belly while you take my cock deep into your throat," you moan around him, excited by the idea. The vibrations your moans shoot through him makes his cock twitch in the recesses of your mouth.

"Stop, sweetheart, stop." he instructs as he tugs your hair gently.

Pulling away from him, you raise an eyebrow.

"Was it not okay?" you ask softly.

He shushes you with his lips, arms coddling around you to lay you down.

"It was perfect. I'm saving my cum for your pussy."

Spreading your legs wider with his knees, he kisses you so passionately you think your heart might have stopped.

"Shit," he whispers against your lips.

Prodding the tip of his cock to your entrance, he simply loses himself in your presence.

How long and often he's adored you before you even knew. How lucky he is to have you now.

Entering you slowly, your mouth drops open at how completely full you feel. He grunts gently at the feeling of your velvet walls around him. He kisses you leisurely, taking his time to shower you in pleasure.

Drifting his hand over your womb, he moans your name.

"Fuck baby, look at how tight your pussy is. I can see how big my cock is," he says, drawing your attention to where you're met. You can see the outline of his cock clearly within you and it sets your loins ablaze.

He groans when your cunt throbs around him, "You're going to take my baby, aren't you, sweetheart? Get nice and pregnant for me?"

You nod incessantly as he sits up on his knees. Pulling almost all the way out of you, he slaps your clit with his fingers. Raising an eyebrow, he looks you in the eye.

"Words, sweetheart. You know this," he chides as you squirm on his cock.

"Y-Yes. I'm going to take your cum and get pregnant for you. Get really big with your baby."

Pleased with your words, he thrusts deep inside of you.

Your legs hook around his hips, moaning his name like a prayer as he begins an unrelenting pace.

"Fuck, you're so tight! Shit!" he cries out.

You can feel the emotional pull then, this sexual encounter has so much meaning. Making love to Hoseok was always special but the intent behind this experience is overwhelming.

"God, you're so incredible. Who does this pussy belong to?" he asks, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust.

Hooking your ankles over his shoulders, you preen loudly as each thrust hits the soft spot within you.

"You do! You own my pussy! It's all yours!" you cry out as you grip the bedsheets on either side of you.

"That's fucking right I do," he seethes through his teeth.

The sound of wild winds hitting the cabin walls is drowned out by the fiercely pornographic moaning and obscene squelching of your cunt getting fucked,

Your husband presses one hand to your womb, letting the full feeling of his cock inside overwhelm you, and the other situated at the apex of your thighs. He rubs quick, rough circles to your clit, adoring how high and short your moans are getting.

Your cunt flutters around him, sending his eyes rolling back once more as he fucks you faster.

"Beg for it," he reminds you, a breathy moan attached to the end as his head lolls back.

He knows you so well, he can practically sense what's next.

"P-Please!" you moan feebly, your knuckles go white as your pleasure courses through you.

"That's my good girl. Fuck, you look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart. You look so gorgeous when you're about to burst," you gasp gently, the bubble inside of you expanding to the point of popping.

"Hobi, pl-please!" you beg, letting go of the sheets to grab his arms.

"Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, show me how badly you want my child," he concedes as his balls begin to tighten.

Your eyes scrunch closed as you orgasm the second time, you can faintly feel your arousal squirting onto his cock and thighs.

"Shit. That's so hot, good girl, sweetheart," he moans, letting up on his thrusts before pulling out.

You whine at the loss. Eyes opening, albeit they're heavy with drunken lust.

"Turn over for me," your husband whispers in your ear, staving off his oncoming orgasm by kissing and suckling the skin of your neck.

With a gentle sigh, you turn over for him. Perching your ass in the air, you bury your face into the pillow.

"God, I'm so fucking lucky," Hobi says as his fingertips drift over your swollen cunt.

Gripping your hips roughly, he pulls you back to his cock without another word.

Spanking your ass hard, you can barely let out a gasp as he sinks back into your heat.

He curses loudly, rubbing the now smarting skin on the globe of your ass.

He doesn't relent as he pulls you back onto his cock. His hand reaches from your ass to the back of your neck before he's gripping with fervent need.

"God, fuck!" he curses through his teeth.

You can only feebly whimper his name into the pillow.

"You're gonna cum again for me," he insists, snaking his hand around your thigh.

"No, Hobi. It's too much!" you cry out.

"You can take it, sweetheart," he whispers and you gasp gently at the feeling of his cock throbbing so quickly inside of you.

"I can't wait until your belly is nice and big. Let everyone know I fucked my baby into you. You're gonna look so fucking gorgeous with a big belly and those pretty milk filled tits," murmuring his name incessantly, you lift your head as he rubs circles on your clit.

Looking behind you, you take in the beauty that is your husband. A thin sheen of sweat is on his body, his sideburns and bangs are stuck to his face as he fucks you for all your worth.

His eyes meet yours and your pussy clenches around his cock at the sight. With half lidded eyes, he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Hobi," you whine, tears of pleasure filling your vision as he brings you closer to your third orgasm.

"That's it, sweetheart. Say my fucking name," his hand grips harder at the back of your neck.

"Come here," he groans out, lifting your body to press flush to his chest.

Pressing his hand softly to your throat, his thumb pushes your chin towards him. Kissing you fast and rough, he groans into your mouth.

"Cum," he commands and you fall apart as his will.

His arms encircle you, keeping you upright as he fucks into you.

"Oh, baby. I'm cumming! Fuck! I'm cumming! Take it deep. Give me a baby," you hear him moan loudly in your ear. He presses his forehead to your temple, his thrusts becoming erratic and slow.

He whispers your name once more before he stills within you, finally.

You can feel the warmth of his cum rush into you as he fucks rope after rope inside.

"Oh my God," he grumbles breathlessly.

He pulls you down with him onto the bed and you can't keep yourself from giggling as he holds you so tight.

The sound of the wind is the only thing that draws both of you back to reality.

"I hope we get pregnant," he whispers into your neck.

Humming in agreement, you look out the window as snow continues to fall.

"Me too," you reply truthfully.

His fingers trace undefinable shapes on your stomach as he kisses your shoulder.

"As nice as this is maybe next year we should just go to my parents," he says with a chuckle.

Laughing along with him, you turn your body.

"Maybe that would be best," you say, jutting your thumb towards the snow covered window.

"But, hopefully we'll have a baby to bring with us next year," you can hear the hopefulness in his tone.

You can see his excitement in his tired eyes.

Christmas with Hoseok really isn't so bad.

Snowed In Taglist- @sunkissed725​

[griffintail]

I watched this really cute anime movie about a deaf girl recently, and it gave me an idea I thought you might like!!

What if Tommy had a kid (how he came upon the child is irrelevant) who was deaf? Music, especially the discs are a big thing for Tommy, so it’d be a big adjustment for him to realize “Oh yeah, they can’t hear this”. He learns sign language with a LOT of help from others cause he wants to be able to communicate with his kid, and he and his kid sometimes gossip and tease people using sign language cause aside from a few basic signs, no one really knows what those two are talking about; well..maybe Tubbo knows, only cause he was the one Tommy spent the most time learning sign with.

Bonus, what if when his kid’s a little older they decide they wanna hear the discs their dad talks about, so they ask Uncle Techno to help them craft something akin to hearing aids; but y’know with magic and stuff. And when they hear their dad’s discs for the first time they cry cause it’s even better than they ever could have imagined??

I just, I like the fluffy stuff!!

- from, an Anon Who Probably Has Cavities From All This Sweetness🍬🍭🍫

To Hear

Summary: Tommy cares for a deaf, child (Y/N).

Pairings:  Parental! Platonic! Tommy x Deaf! Child! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Bruh, I was so excited to make this I did in a few hours. I have been thinking about this since you sent it in. I use some elements from Lost Ones but it’s soo not canon to my story.

*Any full sentences in Italics means they’re talking in Sign Language.*

 I hope you enjoy it ♥

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Tommy didn’t know.

        How was he supposed to?

        He’d never met anyone that was deaf and didn’t know the signs. (Y/N) was also a baby when he first got her, not exactly like she could go, hey, I can’t hear.

        So, he didn’t know for ages. He really didn’t know what he was doing raising a baby, so when she wasn’t talking by the age of one, he thought it could be a normal thing. He was worried but it could be normal! Babies weren’t super smart after all.

        It was Wilbur that figured it out.

        When he had come to visit his brother and found out he had a baby, of course, they sat down and had a serious talk about it, said baby still happily playing with her toys despite the yelling earlier. After Wilbur realized his brother wasn’t going to simply give up this child, especially after a year of work, he decided he might as well accept it. So, he went over to the child and sat next to her.

        “Hi (Y/N).” Wilbur smiled lightly.

        The child didn’t react though, having not noticed someone was next to her. Wilbur frowned slightly at this and put a hand on her arm, making her look at him now.

        “Hi, little lady.” He greeted her again.

        She made little babbles to him as she turned back to her toys.

        “What words does she know?” Wilbur asked curiously, a small smile on his face again as he remembered when Fundy was a child.

        “Uh, none yet. I can’t get her to say any. She likes making sounds but not much else.” Tommy admitted.

        Wilbur looked at him surprised and Tommy knew now that this wasn’t normal if Wilbur had that face.

        “You said she’s one, right?”

        “Y-Yeah.” He nodded nervously.

        His little girl wasn’t saying words and Wilbur looked concerned. Had he screwed up with his little one?

        Wilbur looked back at (Y/N) though, his mind at work.

        “(Y/N).” He said, but she once more didn’t look at him. “Tommy, does she ever respond to her name?”

        “I mean, sometimes. Not all the time.”

        “When she does respond, are you right in front of her?” Wilbur looked up at him.

        Tommy thought about it before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

        “Does she ever get scared by your yelling? Or anyone’s yelling for that matter. Loud noises?”

        “Not really, w-what has this got to do with anything?” Tommy questioned.

        “…Tommy, I think (Y/N)’s deaf.”

        Tommy stood there for a moment before shaking his head. “No, no, you’re wrong. She makes noises and things like that. She wouldn’t make them if she couldn’t hear them. And-And we relax to my discs all the time, they calm her down.”

        Wilbur stood up, putting a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder. “She’ll still make sounds, but she won’t be able to form words, Tommy. She would have said any sort of word before now. She can also feel vibrations, they probably feel nice but she can’t hear any of it.”

        At the moment, Tommy couldn’t form words as he stared at his brother trying to deny what he said, but…it made sense. Tommy could never get her to respond to her name. She never really seemed to care when he’d try and teach her how to speak. When he and Tubbo were being loud, she never even flinched. Even a small moment when he had been shouting and swearing profanities when she was napping came to mind as he remembered she never even woke up to that.

        “My baby’s deaf.” He whispered. “What…I…God, how didn’t I notice?!”

        “Calm down Tommy.” Wilbur took both of Tommy’s shoulders. “You’re a smart kid and you’ve been doing this for a year. You can figure it out and I’ll help you with it. I’m sure Tubbo will too.”

        From there, it was a lot for Tommy to process. He had just gotten used to the fact he was taking care of a child; now he had to think several steps ahead and make sure he was ready when she got older. It was a shock to his best friend as well, that felt stupid too for not realizing it sooner, and they both took steps to figure it out.

        There were countless days where instead of going out and adventuring, Tubbo and Tommy practiced having sign language conversations with each other. Other days, Tommy would try and teach (Y/N) simple sign words so she could now start to ask for what she wanted. The relief he felt when she actually started to pick up was immeasurable. He nearly cried when she signed dad to him for the first time without him teaching her.

        When L’Manberg was starting to be formed, he made sure everyone within their walls knew how to talk basics with his child in case she needed anything from them. Tommy never liked leaving (Y/N) with anyone but himself and Tubbo and Wilbur, but when war came, things changed and he had to make sure his baby was being taken care of properly.

        Somethings that Tommy did became said with the new thought.

        Tommy still did his daily ritual with (Y/N), sitting with her and listening to a music disc. His heart broke a little each time now though as when they listened together, he realized every time before he was the only one listening to them. She couldn’t hear a single note. That frustrated him to no end some days as he wished his baby could hear such beautiful sounds but there was nothing, he could do to change it.

        Years went on. L’Manberg was independent from the Dream SMP, Wilbur and Tommy were in power, Tommy had one of his discs back from Dream from a little scam, and (Y/N) was eleven years old.

        “Can we go see Uncle Tubbo?” (Y/N) asked Tommy.

        “Yeah, in a bit. Got to finish writing this for Wilbur. Bitch is so lazy.” Tommy smirked before going back to writing.

        Wilbur looked over at the sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles.

        “What are you doing Tommy?” He asked his brother.

        “Nothing Wilbur,” Tommy called to him.

        “He’s president, tell him to get off his lazy arse.”

        Tommy had to put a hand over his mouth as Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

        “What did she just say? She was going too fast for me.”

        “Just a stupid joke Wilbur.” Tommy grinned as he gave (Y/N) a subtle thumbs up.

        The older man shook his head as he went back to his potions as Tommy finished writing. Putting the book away, Tommy nodded his head for the door of the van and both he and (Y/N) left. She wore her own L’Manberg uniform as they walked down the path towards Tubbo’s home.

        “It still sucks his old house is gone. I liked it.”

        “Yeah, but what are you going to do when you have a power-hungry green bitch?”

        (Y/N) giggled again as they got to Tubbo’s house, Tommy barging in.

        “Tubbo!” He called.

        Tubbo poked his head out from where he was gathering up a few things and smiled.

        “Hey, Tommy! Hey (Y/N).” Tubbo greeted them.

        “Hi, Uncle Tubbo. Did you get any new bees?”

        “I did, they’re with the rest of the hive. You can go see them, just don’t scare them.”

        “I know. I’ll be back dad!”

        Tommy gave her a salute and she was gone.

        “She been doing ok?” Tubbo asked.

        “Yeah, she’s been pretty good.” Tommy grinned. “She talked shit about Wilbur in front of him and it was pretty funny.”

        “I still can’t believe you taught her to swear.” Tubbo shook his head as he went back to his chests.

        “It’s hilarious! No one else knows what we’re saying but you!”

        “That’s because I learned with you. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t know either.” Tubbo reminded him. “Jack figure it out yet?”

        “No.” Tommy rolled his eyes.

        A few of the new members of L’Manberg and the Dream SMP struggled to remember (Y/N) was deaf and often startled her or would simply walk up to her and try and just simply talk. The little girl struggled with her deafness sometimes as she was different from everyone else. Tommy was always there to assure her though that she was fine the way she was.

        “But hey, I was thinking about how to get my disc back from Skeppy,” Tommy mentioned.

        “Oh yeah, what this time?” Tubbo asked.

        (Y/N) came back in smiling as Tommy and Tubbo were talking animatedly about their plan. She gave a simple clap to let them know she was there as she often did when she’d enter a room and no one noticed. They both looked over and motioned her over, talking about their plan instead in sign so she’d know what they were talking about.

        They were talking about the discs again and she frowned slightly. Her father loved playing discs when they were home and she liked feeling the music but she couldn’t help but always wonder what it was like to listen to what her father could hear. To know why he liked them so much that Dream would take them from him.

        A few months past and (Y/N) got herself a new uncle when he settled down close by to their homeland. Technoblade had come to see what his brothers were up to and decided to stick around for a while to see if their government got out of hand. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what that meant but she thought he was pretty cool.

        One of the coolest things was that he already knew rough sign language, having needed it for one of his travels. She thrilled for her father not have to teach someone once more the basics, instead Techno taught himself how to sign better and more advanced words so he could talk to her when she was around.

        She was around a decent bit of time.

        As Techno was now around, Tommy liked to spar with him and (Y/N) liked to watch her father’s skills at work. Alongside that, Techno told her a few stories about his travels or just stories with the sign he taught himself. He often also lent her books for her to read in her spare time.

        Tommy had never felt more grateful for his oldest brother.

        Sure, he couldn’t talk shit around Techno because he’d know what he was saying, but seeing (Y/N) smile to be able to talk to someone else made up for it.

        Today though, (Y/N) had to ask Techno for a favor. All of the boys and her were at Wilbur’s to just have some family time, so now was the perfect time.

        “Hey Techno.” (Y/N) stood nervously in front of him as Tommy was arguing with Wilbur in the kitchen.

        “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her.

        “You know how to do enchantments and stuff right?”

        “Yeah, I do quite a bit of it.”

        “Are you really good at it?”

        “I’d say so, why?”

        “I want to hear.”

        Techno leaned back in his seat watching her. She looked rather passionate about hearing.

        “Why?”

        She hesitated to move her hands. “Dad really likes his discs and I just.” She paused. “I want to hear what they’re like, even for a few moments to have something more with him.”

        Techno gave a small smile as he nodded. “Yeah, alright. I’ll work on something when I get home. You got to go into the kitchen right now though and curse Wilbur out.”

        “Easy! Deal!”

        A few moments later, Tommy was dying of laughter as Techno smirked in his seat as Wilbur demanded to know what (Y/N) was saying. Wilbur knew he should have been getting more lessons from Techno.

        It took Techno a few days but he managed to get small devices enchanted to hear for a few hours.

        “It’d take me a lot more work to get permanent hearing. That’s a long project and I’d need some help. But these will work for a few hours before they bug out.” Techno told her as she held them in her hands, having taken her to “watch her”.

        “Thank you so much Techno.”

        “It’s what I do. And I guess you can start calling me Uncle.”

        She grinned before putting the devices in her ears. For a moment, there was nothing, but that was because Techno made sure they were in a quiet place so she wasn’t overwhelmed. He waited before speaking.

        “So?”

        She jumped at the sound before smiling widely.

        “I can hear!”

        “Great, let’s go see Tommy.” He said as he signed along with his words.

        She wouldn’t know what each word would sound like, that would take more than a few hours, so she’d still have to see sign but that wasn’t the purpose of Techno’s work. They walked back to Tommy’s base and Techno knocked on the door as (Y/N) was looking around in amazement. Tommy flung the door open, grinning to see (Y/N) was already back.

        “You bored her already?” Tommy laughed, (Y/N) looking over as she smiled at the sound of her father’s voice.

        “No, I only needed her to see if what I made actually worked,” Techno told him as they went into the house.

        “And what the hell is that?” Tommy asked as he looked at (Y/N) as Techno’s back was turned. “How stupid was it?”

        (Y/N) giggled. “You sound pretty cool dad.”

        Tommy frowned, confused, as Techno leaned on a wall. “What does that mean?”

        “Uncle Techno helped enchant devices that let me hear for a few hours.”

        Tommy stood frozen for a moment before he snapped his head to Techno.

        “Is she serious?” He asked.

        “Dead serious.” Techno nodded.

        Tommy looked at (Y/N) and grinned, hugging her tightly.

        “You can hear!” He laughed, making (Y/N) cringe. “Oops, right. You’re not used to that.”

        “I’m ok.” She told him figuring he was feeling guilty.

        “She won’t understand words, remember.” Techno reminded his brother.

        “Right.” Tommy nodded. “There’s so many sounds you should hear. I don’t know where to start!”

        “Well, I asked Uncle Techno so I could hear your discs.”

        Tommy’s eyes went wide before he grinned taking (Y/N)’s hand and pulling her to the jukebox outside.

        “Wait right here.” He instructed her as he rushed back inside, Techno coming out lazily with a smile.

        Tommy ran back with a familiar purple and white-colored disc. He rested it on the jukebox before speaking to (Y/N).

        “This is Mellohi. It’s the disc I gave to Dream before I got it back. One of the discs I played for you all the time when you were a baby before I knew and even after. This is one of our discs.”

        Tommy picked up the disc again, taking a deep breath before putting it on. He sat next to (Y/N) on the bench as the song started to play. (Y/N) sat in amazement as she felt the familiar vibrations but also heard the sound it made. Tommy had such a wide smile as he wiped the corner of his eyes of tears as he watched (Y/N)’s reaction to one of their discs.

        She begged him to put on another and Tommy gladly brought out the rest of his collection, Techno having long ago left to see his mission accomplished. They spent those hours they had listening to their discs, Tommy telling Tubbo at one point and the other boy joining the two of them. The trio sat there until the enchantment ran out, but Tommy couldn’t be happier.

        His baby had heard their discs and he swore to himself that he’d help Techno with whatever he needed to make it permanent.

[furiousgoldfish]

I'm supposed to start a part-time job, and I've never had an actual, regular job; the premise had been terrifying to me since I've been 11. It's been presented to me as a completely impossible feat – every single time I'd try to get a job, I'd get sabotaged.

I've been told over and over again that I am incapable of anything, worthless in every sense, unhireable, bound to mess up the simplest jobs, I couldn't do anything, nobody would hire me, it was impossible for me to work, I was a lost cause, I'd never be independent, or able to survive without family. Once I finally got my confidence up and was 18, I said I'd look for a job, only to get crushed by a well aimed 'You? What can you do?' followed with a fit of laughter from my mother. At that point it was enough to destroy any confidence I had spent weeks putting together. I believed she knew the truth about me, more than I did.

Looking back, it feels so insane to think actual parents would repeatedly tell these things to their kid, in a time where a job is the only possible survival for all humans. Were they saying all these things because I truly was, a lost case, the worst most useless person, from the age 11? Of course not. If I had been so utterly incapable, they wouldn't have to say anything, it'd be their job to help me to get capable, so that I could survive. So why would they fill their very hardworking kid's head with all this 'you won't ever get a job and you're worthless to even try'?

So I could never leave. Because I was next to no cost to be kept alive in their house (they didn't tell me that, of course, I was told I was a huge burden), and they wanted to have a half-alive scapegoat at home at all times to abuse, to force to work with no credit or compensation, and of course, to keep all of the secrets of what they did to me safe. If I'm in their house, I'm too terrified to tell anyone. Any hint of me feeling brave enough to try to gain income meant I was a step away from leaving so this had to be crushed in the most brutal way possible. But, that's only half of what they've done to keep me from working.

I've been working for my parents, ever since I was 6, of course I didn't know this, it was presented as 'you can't live if you don't work' until I understood I'd do what I'm told, or I will be left for dead. It was all manual labour, I wasn't allowed to learn a skill. I lost most of my memories of it, because it was accompanied by, well, torture. While working, I was humiliated, screamed at, beaten, injured, forced to do the work with false instructions so I could be punished for it, and of course, at the end I was told that all my work was worthless and it would have been better if I had done nothing. I wasn't allowed to back out or stop working, because remember, death threats. And it was a sure way to invoke violence, regardless of me being sick, injured, mourning, starving, distressed, devastated. I wasn't allowed to say no to work. I had no right to live if I did that.

Now that.. left a trace. I could tell, since 11, that I'd be too scared to work for anyone after that. It's been a lot of years of additional work abuse (child abuse while child is forced into labour under a death threat?) since then, so after all that, I couldn't work anymore. The mere idea of someone telling me to do something would invoke terror, rage, paranoia, panic, expectation, of violence, humiliation and death threats. I simply had no other experiences for my brain to connect it to anything other than that. Work and trauma became one and the same. I truly became incapable to work. Courtesy of my parents.

At that time I'd already done so much work, I've had physical symptoms of a person who damaged their body with work, my back hurt, my muscles were spent and aching, I was spent in my 20s from manual labor like people get at their 70s. Only I had nothing to show for it. All benefits went to my parents. I got broken and barely escaped with my life.

So, I'm still alive now, and I've been trying to recover from this for the last 5 years, feels funny when I write it like that, doesn't it? Decades of abuse, but I expected 5 years would settle this. It wouldn't, of course.

I've received some job training, and my brain was completely blank during it because, it still doesn't feel safe to be aware of reality in a work-related situation. My brain did the best it could to protect me – and dissociated the hell out of that one. Ever since, I've been feeling the effects of work abuse on my body stronger, heavier than before. All my muscles hurt, I'm too exhausted to move, I hear screaming in my head, I have a looming feeling of 'I have to quit or I will die' and also there's a voice repeating 'I can't do this, I'm not capable' in my head. It sounds and feels bad, it's actually next to unbearable, but I know my body is doing this to protect me. If I work, even part time, I will get triggered to the decades of abuse, I will be forced to re-live it. I'm not in state of mind that could safely handle this. It's a risk. If I manage to take this, maybe my brain will somehow, mercifully, create new connections between working and being okay, having financial safety for the first time since I existed. Maybe it can be done. But it will hurt, and it will put me thru hell.

I'm mad they did this to me. Nobody deserved this. In a world where we all depend on a job, to have it be this painful to have one? It shouldn't be this hard. It shouldn't destroy me like this. I shouldn't be put thru this, nobody should. I shouldn't have had to work as a child to deserve to be kept alive. I shouldn't have been put thru such traumatic work situations I now find it unbearable to handle. I shouldn't have my entire organism thrown into panic and death fear at the idea of work. I'm naturally hardworking. I should already have worked normally for years, saved up. If I had been brought up normally, I wouldn't be in financial stress and poverty, I'd be safe! I wouldn't be scared of whether I will recover fast enough to survive. I wouldn't be in traumatic exhaustion. I would be okay.

If you have endured any of the traumatic work situations by the hands of your parents, know that a crime is being committed against you, and the consequences are painful. While underage, you do not need to work to deserve to eat, or sleep, or stay alive. You do not need to suffer abuse while working in order to have human rights. It's your parents responsibility to provide you with 100% of your resources, and if they claim you owe it to them, they're lying. They had unprotected sex, they had a kid, it's absolutely none of your fault, and you do not have to pay for it. Parents do not have the right of exploiting children for work. And when they give themselves this right, it's abuse.

[ohheyitsokay]

trials

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: 2.1k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and sexual intimacy. strong language, angst with a happy ending

summary: this one is a Santi story - he tries to bring another girl into the relationship, and learns instead how much he loves you

it wont be everyone's cup of tea but I felt like it was an important part of the story

note: don’t hate Santi! I think this is a pretty normal, and the best sunsets come after rain

>>

Santi was the first to branch out. He didn’t mean to – hated himself for it a little, but he did.

This – whatever this is, it’s a ticking time bomb, he told Will. One of has to do something before it breaks all of our hearts.

It was a lie.

They both knew it. But he had the money and the looks and the confidence and he was just hurt enough by the sight of you asleep in Ben’s lap one afternoon that he just… let it get to him.

Brooded and boiled until he was overcome with false righteousness and pure selfishness.

He didn’t look you in the eyes when he told you he was going to try to get another girl. It wasn’t that he was leaving what you all had, just that he deserved a chance at whatever he called balance. His gaze in the other men’s eyes was too bold – the look of a desperate man, terrified of being hurt so causing it on his own terms.

You nodded numbly, shocked in spite of yourself, scolding and scathing voices in your mind telling you not to be selfish. Not to be greedy.

He deserves more than sharing.

Tucking yourself into Frankie’s arms, you tried not to glare or cry and only failed at the latter. Because it’s not the dating another girl that hurt, really it’s not. Polyamory is hard, and it was always an open option. What hurts is his blatant choice to ignore the relationship his has with you, specifically, that he’s ignoring everything you and him have worked for, built with love and time and care.

Rubbing gentle hands over your skin, Will and Frankie and Ben shared looks as Santi stalks away.

Frankie corners him in the garage the next morning. You had slept between him and Will the night before, but they had all felt you toss and turn, all spent a fair amount of time staring at the ceiling themselves. His dark eyes are an insecure that shoots into Frankie’s core – it’s a look he knows, has spent months overcoming. He swallows hard, his words dying in his throat, and he simply shakes his head.

It almost breaks Santi in two, the first moment one of his loves betrays the damage he’s done, but he tells himself there’s no going back.

“Better now than later, when our parents hate her or –”

Frankie’s look stops him and he flinches away.

Will is at the bar he chooses without an invite, knowing where he’d be without having to even ask and they both try not to think of you at home with Ben, probably dripping flames. Santi wonders if it hurts more to watch him flirt, or to do it, but neither of them say a word to each other. In spite of it all, the respect his judgement, respect his choice, and that hurts too.

It feels strange to have others looking him up and down and to look back, smile with lust void of love and soak in the attention.

Before he succumbs to it, Santi wishes Will would come over, slide his hand around his neck and… stop respecting him so much. It would pull him back, but since he doesn’t, the thought dies under the burn of cheap alcohol.

-

She’s lovely, really, graceful like a cat.

Santi has kept her from you all for a few weeks now, keeping his dignity with distance. But now she’s here, in your home, and you should be jealous but instead you just smile sadly at her, and slip off to the kitchen.

He likes… coffee, dark roast, with just a clump of raw sugar. You’re stirring it when you realize they followed you, hovering at the door. The ache of it is less than it was before and they’re happy together, so for his sake, you sit down across from her.

She’s kind, friendly. Knows the gist of the situation, tells you she’ll go at your pace.

And it crashes into you, how he’s pinned you at a time when know one else is home, offering her up to you like a plea, a child who used the superglue to make a gift, never mind the fact that his hands are both stuck to it and burning.

It feels reasonable to have another woman around, to make the numbers less absurd, to – to help you. Her smile is a little shy and she takes you hand and she looks at Santi with such adoration that a knot loosens in your chest involuntarily.

She doesn’t joke about it, any of it, and you almost wish she would. It would be so much easier to hate her if she was shallow, or stupid, or something but she’s not, and when she smiles you almost think you could be friends. You wonder if you could make it work, like they do for you.

Ben and Will come home early, stepping in like the angels they are, planting themselves solid at your side like trees with roots deeper than they are tall. When Frankie comes home, he takes the spot of the two of them as their eyes draw Santi into another room.

“What the fuck, Garcia,” Benny is as hurt as you are by it all, maybe more.

“Shut up Miller.” He’s glaring, filled with venomous satisfaction at how well the two of you have been talking.

“Cant you see it’s for the better?”

There’s silence – neither of them agree, too confused by him to respond.

“Don’t you ever wonder,” Santi tries again, knowing they’re listening because they love him too.

“No.” They spoke in unison, which makes Will roll his eyes. Neither of them hesitate, and something in Santi cracks.

-

You poke holes in the bottom of a styrofoam container with a plastic fork. She’s long gone now, but the date still lingers as you poke at your leftovers and try to unwind each moment of the date like strings of spaghetti.

On the surface it had gone well, you had thought you had fun until you felt a burn of tears under your eyelids.

Closing them you sigh, breathing like you practiced, gentle tides of love and logic washing over a feelings you tell yourself are selfish.

When you open your eyes, your Santi is standing behind her chair, and you almost cant breathe.

He went away for two weeks to help with a mission, and he’s here, one side of his mouth higher than the other. You want to kiss it, but you smile instead, and say, “You missed her by a couple minutes, sorry,” and actually mean it.

“I caught her in the parking lot,” he sits slowly, carefully, and when he reaches for your hands it’s almost tentative. It makes you blink again, how his eyebrows are bending. For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t understand what it means, cant predict at all what he says next.

“I broke it off,” his eyes are in yours.

“I don’t understand,” you hear yourself say.

Santi searches for the words, like he had them but cant make them come out of his mouth.

“She’s not you,” he says. “I want you.”

You realize with a start that his hand is trembling, and he says your name in a way you’ve never heard before – like he’s terrified. That’s how badly he wants this, wants.. you. There’s no question in your mind, your eyes answer him.

It’s messy, not like a movie, the way he tugs you up and up and into his arms, the shudder of his broad shoulders and he buries himself into you as much as he can.

Like a hazy, blurry dream, your arms find their way around him, holding him like he’s fragile, another first.

He doesn’t say You’re enough for me, or You deserve the world, or anything dramatic.

Instead he says, “Can I buy you dinner?” And, “I’m sorry,” and “It’s been too long.”

And he says “I love you.”

-

He already asked the others, calling them each on his drive to you. Asked like he was young, if it was okay. Santi knew none of them had fallen in love with her, because even he hadn’t. But he had to ask for their permission as much as yours, to try to win you back.

They were more guarded than you, wary of his passion.

It takes time, and work.

He stays up later than he should talking with Benny about everything and nothing, hands nervously putting together snacks. When the younger man holds you, Santi teaches himself to join, to be held and hold you both. It feels good, which feels like guilt.

He works on that, too.

Frankie and him never talk about it. For weeks he thought his oldest friend had understood, more of less forgiven him without a word. One day they’re out for lunch, and his eyes flicker at the waitress, tucking her hair behind her ear. When he returns his gaze to the man across him, his blood runs cold. It’s been years since he’s seen furious determination brewing in Frankie’s dark, caring eyes, but it’s there now and he hates it. It takes discipline, to watch how he’s perceived as closely as he watched his intentions, but he does it.

It was easier than winning Will back.

“How long has your logic been shit?” Has your heart been in the wrong place this whole damn time?

“I just got on the wrong path, Ironhead.”

“Like hell you did,” his eyes were ice. “You let that happen.”

It would’ve been easier if he punched him. This wasn’t a kiss and make up moment either. The work ended up being long talks while you forced them to drive to pick you up when your car broke down the town over. Forcing words out being so honest it hurt, until has heart and throat felt raw. Making Will understand it was out of his own fears. Showing him how he was fixing it.

And weeks of letting with watch him again, eyes not missing a single touch or flinch or moment between you all. Actions to reinforce his words.

It hurt, but infinitely less than feeling distant from you all to begin with.

-

Will and your Catfish bring it up with you, one sunday afternoon as you tuck yourself between them and let their hands trace your skin.

“How are you doing?”

“I don’t know, Will. Better, I think. I missed him.”

Frankie places a row of warm kisses down the side of your neck.

“He missed you too. It’s Pope, he’s... he’s scared, love.”

“I don’t know if I believe that, yet.”

Ironhead grumbles at your confession, his big fingers squeezing the meat of your thigh.

“You gave him another chance, but you’re holding back. What does your gut say?”

“Unreliable - I’m in love with him.”

His head pops up and he kisses you before half-smiling. Frankie’s hand finds one of his, and they share a look.

“Can we tell you, querida? What we’ve seen.”

“Some objective evidence,” Will kisses you again.

“He loves us.” Another kiss. 

“You.”

-

It’s quiet as Santi flips through his latest files. The evening air is cool, and he should be getting ready for bed but you’re not home yet, and they’re all milling about waiting. You texted them how tired you were, what an awful evening you had.

“It should just be another couple of minutes,” Will says, and Frankie checks his watch. Ben wanders to the kitchen and they can hear him mixing hot chocolate.

When you walk through the front door, they fold you in their arms. Santi holds back, doubt still nagging at his mind. You let him back in, let him take you don't dates, but you didn’t fit together any more. He was running out of ways to communicate with you.

But you slump over, gently pushing aside his files and placing his laptop away before replacing it with yourself. Molding into him you sigh, and almost instantly fall asleep.

You’re small and vulnerable in his arms and the weight on his legs feels like trust.

The air in the room shifts, lighter, more breathable than it’s been in months. Adoring, proud eyes watch, and he wants to cry.

For the first time maybe ever, he’s sure that everything is going to be okay.

-

The bar was mercifully quite that evening, and if made it easy for you to find your love. A small, familiar feeling tugged in your gut as you made your way over to him, eyes on the waitress who was leaning over him with unwholesome intentions.

Then the feeling settled, and was replace with a warmer feeling. She was putting down a tray that had your order on it, and Santi was thanking her, distracted checking your message on his phone.

“Hey, handsome,” you said, the warm feeling spreading throughout your chest. “Can we actually get out of here?”

His brown eyes were big, dark lashes catching the low lights as he stared at you. Somewhere in his mind, he thought too protest because your drink just got there, but the words stuck on his tongue. 

“Yeah... yeah of course, baby,” He signaled for the check before standing to draw you in his arms. Saying no to you had never really been an option. 

The two of you barely made it to his truck before your hands were all over each other. You liked the feel of him, pinning you against the metal frame, the desperate way he kissed you.

Pope was saying something about how you looked so fucking sexy, needing him so badly you couldn’t wait. You couldn’t concentrate on them. 

“Pope,” you said against his skin, sliding your hands under his shirt. In response, he only made a soft groaning noise and increases his urgency.

"Santi," you tried again, before your own gasp cut you off.

"Santi - fuck - Santiago!"

The look he gave you was that of a dog, when you held the treat just out of reach.

"I'm yours," you said, pulling his head in to press against your forehead. "And you," you kissed him, hard, fingers gripping his beautiful curls. "Are mine."

"Fuck," you could feel his heartbeat, his pulse, he was pressing into you so hard, like he wanted to blur where he ended and you began. You knew he understood.

"I am," he said into your skin again and again that evening. Not selfish position, a promise and a proclamation: "I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

<<

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[yayeetsonny]

Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?” 

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

//

Not edited.