#but we had a cookie decorating station anyway

[uptownhags]

This was the first Christmas I can remember that no one in my small family fought (emotionally or physically) or experienced anything tragic. I’m gonna say like, 15 years since this last happened?? We have all been thru a hell of a lot and it was so nice to see everyone at peace for even just 2 days!!!

[steddie-island]

Vixen

A (late) @steddiemas day 24 - For Someone Special (NSFW Gifts) WC: 2894 | Rating: E | Tags: Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Steve wears lingerie, Eddie has a filthy mouth Find the full list of tags on ao3.

No matter how many times they did this, how many times he did this, it always made Steve’s stomach twitch with nerves. Even after eight years together he was afraid of the rejection, that he would do something that made Eddie look at him and re-consider all of his life choices. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but the nerves were still there . 

He pushed past the nerves like he did every other time, though, and zipped his jeans into place. They had a Christmas Eve party to go to, where they would spend the night around their friends and family and he would have to act like everything was completely normal. 

“Babe, are you ready?” Eddie asked as he tugged on his ugly Christmas sweater– a bright green thing with little lightbulbs all over it that actually lit up. 

Steve tugged his own ugly sweater on– a bulky red thing with Rudolph’s head on it, with a big red nose right in the middle of his chest that glowed brightly and bells all around Rudolph’s harness. “Ready.” “God, you’re so fucking cute.” Eddie pulled him in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “C’mon, let’s go. If we’re late, Robin might make us drive the kids home again.”

“They’re not kids anymore, Ed. They’re adults. They’re adults that can drink,” Steve chuckled. Still, he followed Eddie to the front door, where they grabbed their coats before heading outside. The party was in full swing when they showed up. One group was decorating cookies at one end of the table while another group worked to put gingerbread houses together. Everyone had on their own ugly sweaters, and Dustin had light up reindeer antlers to accompany his own, which had 3-D ornaments hanging off of it. They were immediately pulled into the activities. Eddie was dragged to the gingerbread house building station while Robin pulled Steve to the kitchen so they could make more cookies. 

It was warm, and cheery, and everything that Steve had ever wanted Christmas to be. There was a part of him that ached, because it wasn’t the Christmas he’d had as a kid, but he had it now, with Eddie and Wayne and Robin and the kids that had all managed to make it here for the holiday even though they were scattered across the country now. It was enough to have him fighting back tears as he mixed up more cookie dough. “Dingus, haven’t I told you you’re not allowed to cry on Christmas?” Robin teased. She pulled him in for a tight hug, and if she was blinking her own tears away when their hug broke, that was no one else’s business.

They had dinner, and then everyone piled into the living room to open gifts. There were new books for Robin, records for Eddie– even though CDs had long since outsold vinyls. Steve had a new sweater, one hand knitted by Claudia that he hugged to his chest as everyone else opened their gifts. There were mountains of wrapping paper by the time they were finished. Steve once more got up to help clean up. It wasn’t something he was expected to do, but something he did anyway. He liked helping, being useful. Eddie curled around him when Steve took his seat again and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he said, smiling against that golden skin. “Have I mentioned that?” “Once or twice.” Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s and caught his hand. “Are you having a good Christmas? Have you enjoyed your presents?” “It’s been… amazing.” Eddie grinned at him. “They’ve all been amazing with you, Steve.” Steve pecked Eddie’s lips. “This one isn’t over yet,” he said. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he just smiled. “You’ll see when we get home.” “Will I now?” Eddie looked at him, clearly wanting at least a hint. Steve just grinned and tucked even deeper into Eddie’s side. 

The party ended shortly after that, when everyone was yawning and eyelids were droopy. There were lots of hugs, kisses on the cheek, wishes of Merry Christmas and drive safe. That was one of Steve’s favorite parts, hearing all the love as they all went their separate ways. He hated the leaving, but all that love always made it more than worth it.

************************

“Where’s my other gift?” Eddie asked as soon as they were on the road. “ What’s my other gift?” 

“Has anyone told you that patience is a virtue?” Steve teased. 

“Yeah, and you of all people should know that I’ve never been very virtuous, Steve.” Eddie reached over to take his hand. “C’mon, I wanna know.” “Okay, okay. I’ll give you a hint.” He brought Eddie’s hand under the hem of his sweater, then pushed his fingers down… down… just past the waistband of his jeans, to where they could both feel the silky fabric underneath. The choked sound Eddie made brought heat into Steve’s cheeks. 

“Jesus, baby. You’ve been wearing those all night?” he asked, eyes flicking over to Steve’s face. “Fuck… you’re gonna kill me.” “You haven’t even seen them yet.” Steve grinned as his nerves melted away, the way they always did when he got to see Eddie’s reaction. 

“Don’t have to see them to know that I want to take them off with my teeth, do I?” 

Heat pooled low in Steve’s belly. “Try not to tear them this time?” 

“No promises, sweetheart.”

************************

They managed to get through the doors and to get their coats and scarves hung up before Eddie was on him. Cold hands slipped beneath his shirt, making him yelp. It was swallowed down by Eddie’s mouth as his back was pressed against the wall. Those hands he loved dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans to grip his ass through the fabric of the panties. “I want to see these.” Eddie was practically panting with need. He was hard and hot, and when he rolled his hips Steve could feel the evidence of his desire against his hip. 

“Take me upstairs,” Steve encouraged. “Wanna show you. They’re so pretty, Eddie.” He buried his fingers into his boyfriend’s hair and groaned as those sharp teeth dug into his throat. There would be bruises in the morning, for the next few days. His chest thrummed at the idea, and he lifted a leg to pull Eddie closer. “Eddie, baby–” 

Eddie broke away with a growl and grabbed Steve’s hand. They tripped over their feet as they hurried upstairs and into their bedroom. “I wanna see,” he breathed. “Wanna touch. Fuck, Steve, you know what you do to me?” He pushed at Steve’s stupid fucking sweater, tossed it into a corner of the room where the red nose would glow for the rest of the night. He nudged Steve back onto the bed and leaned over him. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart. Wanna get a look at those panties, and then I’m gonna suck your cock in them.” “Eddie–” Steve trembled as nimble fingers got his jeans open and down. Eddie didn’t stop there, he tugged Steve’s shoes off, tugged the jeans off of his legs, and when he looked up it was a million fucking wonders that he didn’t come in his jeans. “Oh, Jesus, sweetheart. You made yourself so pretty for me, didn’t you?” The panties were red satin, with white lace where they were cut up on Steve’s hips. The fabric dug in there, and Eddie had the desire to sink his teeth into those divots. Steve was still so strong, but he’d softened a little and Eddie was more than a little in love with it. He didn’t have time to worship those hips, though, because coming down from the panties were clips that held up red thigh highs with white lace trim. 

“I’m gonna eat you up.” Eddie ran his hands up Steve’s calves, to his thighs, and leaned in to nose at his cock. There was already a wet spot against the fabric from how wet Steve was. “I”m gonna tear you apart, Stevie.” 

“Eddie–” Steve gasped as Eddie’s teeth found his thigh, just above where the stocking ended. “Oh god – I’m all yours. Want you so bad, sweetheart. Fuck .” Eddie growled as he pulled off, only to latch on to the same spot on the other thigh. He hummed as he sucked and worked his teeth. Every moan and whimper that spilled out of Steve’s lips spurred him on. When he pulled off there were two matching bruises left behind. “Gonna take care of you. You’re my beautiful boy, aren’t you?” “Yes,” Steve practically sobbed. “Fuck, Eddie, need you to touch me.” His legs were pulled over Eddie’s shoulders, and then Eddie’s mouth was on his cock, further soaking the fabric. “Please, please–” “Beg so pretty. You beg so fucking pretty, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned and ran his hands up Steve’s body. “You’re so beautiful.” “Eddie,” he whimpered. “Please–” Just like he’d promised, Eddie tugged the material down, down, until Steve’s cock was free. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathed. “Gonna make you see stars with my mouth, and then we’re gonna make sure the neighbors file a noise complaint.” “Eddie!” Steve cried out as Eddie’s mouth found his cock and began tonguing at the head. He wasn’t sure what he liked more, the way Eddie spewed filth like he was made for it or the way he sucked dick. Before Steve could really distract himself with a debate, Eddie took him in, swallowed him all the way down and sucked hard. 

“Oh god –” Tears pricked Steve’s eyes as Eddie worked him over. Deeper, with his tongue and his hands and just the barest hint of teeth dragging over the head of his cock. “Eddie– Eddie–” 

Eddie just hummed around him and looked up through those long lashes. Steve would never get tired of seeing the love of his life looking at him so adoringly. His hand caught Eddie’s where it rested against his hip to hold him in place. He’d been keyed up since the car, and actually having Eddie’s hands on him was pushing him closer to the edge. “Not gonna last much longer,” he breathed. 

Eddie bobbed his head, and with every movement that pulled him off of Steve’s cock he used one hand to keep stroking. His movements were tight and quick. Steve came with his free hand buried in Eddie’s hair and his back bowing off of the bed. 

“Fuck– fuck fuck Eddie –” Eddie swallowed him down the way he’d done a million times before. Only when Steve's sounds started changing from pleasure to a little pained did he pull off. 

“Kiss me?” Steve panted. He caressed Eddie’s cheek, over to his lips. “Please?”

Eddie slowly kissed up Steve’s body, over the soft expanse of his stomach and up towards his chest. At Steve’s neck he pressed a kiss to the hickey he’d left earlier. “Love doing that for you,” he breathed. “Love hearing the way you say my name.” He caught Steve’s mouth with a hum, and when those pretty lips parted he pressed inside, giving Steve a taste of himself. “Love you , sweetheart. All of you.” He ghosted his hand down Steve’s side and to his thigh. “I love you, too.” Steve nipped Eddie’s lower lip. “Know how much I love you?” Eddie hid his smile in Steve’s neck as he nipped at more of that beautiful skin. “How much, baby?”

“I love you so much that I still want you to fuck me even though you’re still wearing that stupid Christmas sweater.” He flicked one of the lightbulbs that was flashing up by Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie laughed bright and loud as he straightened up. He tugged the sweater off and tossed it in the general direction of Rudolph. “Better?” “Much.” Steve pulled Eddie back in to kiss him slow and deep. His fingers trailed over all of that tattooed skin to bring their bodies closer together. He wanted more, always wanted more, but just getting to kiss and touch Eddie was always good. 

Eddie ground down against him, reminding them both that he was still hard in the confines of his jeans. “I have another promise to keep,” he murmured into Steve’s mouth. Steve shivered and leaned up for a kiss. “And I have another present for you.” He nipped Eddie’s lower lip. “Do you want me to show it to you or do you want to find it yourself?”

Eddie all but growled into his mouth again. “I’m telling you, you’re trying to kill me,” he murmured. He stood up to shuck out of the rest of his clothes. “They better put Death by Steve Harrington on my tombstone.” “Stop talking about dying and get over here,” he said, and he nudged Eddie with his foot. “I wanna kiss you more.” 

“So impatient, Stevie.” Eddie found the garter clips and unfastened them easily so he could tug the panties down but leave the stockings on. His lips trailed over Steve’s calf and up that beautiful thigh again. A glistening silver thing caught his eye and he choked on air again. “Oh. Oh, sweetheart. You’ve been wearing this all night?” 

Wandering fingers slipped up, up, between Steve’s thighs and then his cheeks. The plug was warm and wide against Steve’s skin. 

“All day.” Steve held himself open for Eddie’s viewing pleasure. “Put it in after my shower this morning.” “Christ.” Eddie gripped the plug and began working it against Steve’s rim, causing him to twitch and whine. “You’re fucking perfect. Made for me, weren’t you, sweetheart? You’re my good boy.” Steve rocked towards Eddie’s hand with another sound. “Please, Eddie. Been waiting for you all day. I need you.” “I know you do, sweetheart.” He tugged the plug out to the widest point, pushed it back in, back and forth to get more of those beautiful sounds. “I can see you now, opening yourself up in the shower and putting this thing in. Did you come then, Steve? Did you come thinking about me fucking you tonight?” “ Yes –” Steve’s thighs twitched. “Eddie, Eddie please, I need it, I need you, stop playing with me please –” It was so fucking much and yet not enough to get him off again. “Fuck me, please–” Eddie pulled the plug out once more, this time letting it come out all the way. His eyes were darker than ever as he slotted himself between Steve’s thighs and lined up against his hole. Steve watched those eyes as Eddie got situated, as his legs were over Eddie’s arms– As Eddie began working inside with quick, shallow thrusts that had his breath coming out in small puffs. The plug had been wide, but Eddie was wider. There was an initial burn, there always was, but it quickly melted away into pleasure so strong that Steve did cry then. 

There was no time to beg Eddie to move, to beg him to do something. Steve was essentially folded in half with the angle they were at. Eddie caught his mouth in a sloppy kiss. His hips began rolling quickly, speeding up until he pounded into Steve’s body with a rhythm that had them both gasping. 

Steve’s blunt nails slipped over Eddie’s back, his ass, his arms as he tried his best to hold on. The pleasure was just so intense, and he was losing it fast. The angle had Eddie so deep in his body, and the way the head of his cock kept dragging over Steve’s prostate was enough to deliver on the promise to see stars. 

They held on together, rocked together. Eddie cursed against Steve’s mouth, and when he wasn’t cursing he was letting words like “good boy” and “beautiful” slip out. Every word of praise felt like it was branded into Steve’s skin. Eddie always did that to him, too. He didn’t doubt whether he was good, or deserving, or loved with Eddie. 

Even though he’d already gotten off once, his second orgasm didn’t take long. It swept through and over him in waves. He sobbed Eddie’s name and left pink scratches over the parts of him that weren’t tattooed. 

“Steve–” Eddie bit down on Steve’s lower lip as he buried himself. The tightening of Steve’s body pulled Eddie over the edge, had him coming deep inside of this man he loved so much. 

When it was over he released Steve’s legs and fell to the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but neither man was sure if their legs would hold them up long enough to move. 

“Best present ever,” Eddie murmured into Steve’s neck. 

Steve grinned and kissed his sweat damp hair. “Yeah? You liked it?”

“Love it.” He pressed kisses into Steve’s jaw. “Did you? Was it too much?” “Never.” Steve turned his head to catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss. “It was perfect.”

It took a few minutes, but once they were sure their legs would hold them they got up and made their way to the bathroom to clean up. They dressed in their matching pajamas that Wayne had gotten for them Christmas the year before and slipped beneath the covers together, with Eddie’s head tucked into Steve’s neck. 

“I love you,” Steve murmured into his hair. 

“Love you, too.” Eddie squeezed him tight. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, Eds.” 

[mrsmahito]

The PROMISE

Mahito x Black!fem!reader

Summary: You leave your life in America as you start your dream of becoming a big-time model in Japan after working your way through the industry. At night you work at a club to make extra money on the side. One night you're attacked but strange stranger stops the attack. You tell them you'll keep this a secret, that turns into something more of a promise…

Warnings: Alcohol, Blood, Violence, Blood, Gore mentioned, Eventual smut(Slow burn)

Chapter 1~ Nice to meet you!

*Ding Ding*

The door to the bakery opens, the sweet smell of cakes, macarons, and mini pastries fill the air. Outside the sun was starting to set and the sidewalk glowed with a pretty yellow golden sunlight. The cashier busy ringing up a customer, 2 other bakers covered from head to toe in flour, 4 other employs decorating the yummy treats, and the rest wiping the table or sweeping floors. 

“Welcome to Lily’s Cafe!” the cashier shouts joyfully. 

She has short brown hair, with her light brown eyes, in her green shirt black pants, with an apron over it. Through the door frame a pair of red converse shoes with white laces steps through. 

“Hello,” she says with a smile.

The door closes behind you. You're wearing a white and blue striped crop top with roses on the upper rib area, a pair of blue Jean shorts, with a baby blue colored purse, brown glasses, and a black choker with a silver charm. Your hair ebony with small and medium curls down to her waist. As you walk to the cashier all eyes are on you recognizing you from the cover of many magazines. 

“What can I get for you?���’ the cashier asks.

“Can I get a mocha cookie crumble with white mocha instead of mocha?”

“Yes ma'am, and the size?”

“Uh, medium please!”

“Yes ma’am! Will that be all?’’ the cashier said, ringing up the order.

“Yep!” you replied.

“What will the name for this order be?”

“Y/n.” you state quickly, taking out your card.

“Your total is $10.62”

You smile and insert the card chip punching in your pin. Taking your receipt from the cashier.

The cashier bowed slightly in gratitude.

Walking to a booth waiting for your drink silently. You work as a model for a big agency in Tokyo. They mostly loved you for how different you look compared to the original beauty standard that had already been set up, and that made you stand out more compared to other agencies so you become big in no time covering a lot of livestream media. Japan was the best place for you to live as the culture respected privacy, mostly. You turn to the TV. Catching your attention is a News broadcasting station going on about the mysterious levels of death cases rising.

“Breaking News! Today we are living at an abandoned building west of tokyo where a human being last known as missing, is now believed to have been “devoured”, says a witness.He claims he watched some kind of huge monster figure devour him.

“It was huge!!” the man hissed. “It was unlike anything I had ever seen in my 42 years of living!”

The camera focuses back on the reporter as he continues “These “deaths” are getting more and more out of hand!  More humans are going missing! Is there nothing we can do!?”

Staring blankly at the T.V you sigh, it's the same thing everyday more and more people go missing, or end up dead and there's almost close to or never an explanation. Honestly it never seemed to bother you. Everyone is somewhat afraid of death or you have those who are at peace with the thought of leaving this earth. You were one of those people who enjoyed life to the fullest, any of your friends can tell you that. Your life wasn’t all that great anyway.  

You started modeling on side jobs as a hustle to make money after moving out and eventually moved to bigger agencies that noticed your talent. Until you get a call from a big company in Tokyo,Japan saying they want you as their next model. The first person you called was Kyra. Kyra is your childhood best friend that you had ever since 5th grade. She also had received news that she had gotten her dream job in real estate. 

“Can you believe it all our dreams are coming true!!” You giggled. 

“Yeah, I guess, but it still seems like a dream, ya know? To think you were talking about becoming a teacher or a doctor one day and now look at you.” Kyra smiled to herself. 

“Yeah but you also wanted to be a flight attendant at one point, ya know? Give yourself some credit! You graduated earlier and started right into your career.” you wipe your eyes starting to tear up at this point. “I'm so proud of you...” you mutter, holding back your sob.

“I'm proud of you too..” Kyra added in just barely a whisper.

“Now stop crying before I hang up.”

“I’M SORRY OK!!!” you joke. 

You both talked happily for the next few hours, congratulating each other. After getting off the phone with Kyra you called Dani your friend since middle school to tell her the great news as well. You wanted Kyra to come with you but understood that her life was in America.

Eventually weeks passed and Japan was ready to bring their top model home.

“I'm so proud of you.” Kyra said, smiling slightly while embracing you.

“Thank you!” You hug Kyra tightly while holding back tears.

“Ew, don’t get mushy on me.” Kyra said laughing.

Wiping your tears you look up...

“Don’t forget me ok? Or I'll spread a rumor about you! I am and will always be your number one supporter and fan.” Kyra called teasingly, holding back tears.

“I won’t!” You laughed. But deep down you knew Kyra was serious which made you laugh even harder.

You board the plane after hugging Kyra one last time and waved goodbye.

***

Next

[writerbythewater-blog]

Prompt: this isn’t going to work

Date: April 6th

Bella looked around the empty house, because it was empty in a way. It lacked any sign that her father had lived here with her mother. Everything was how her mother wanted it to be with little hints that Bella had grown up, but the school photos along the fire place did little to show her father. Every where she looked she saw her mother touch. The poorly painted cabinets. The mix matched blinds. The only room to have changed was her own, and that was only because her father wanted to show he was trying.

Bella sighed walking around the house looking for any hint of her father outside of the wall of fishing gear in the shed. She didn't manage, and honestly she hated how her mother decorated the house. She'd been living here for a week and finally felt settled enough to try making a life here, but maybe she should start by making sure her father had one.

Grabbing her key she went to her truck. Her father was already at work, so if she wanted to talk to him she would have to go there. The truck roared to life and she drove to the police station. Parking she walked inside no longer bothered by the nonstop rain of the town. The lady at the desk pointed her towards her fathers office, and she walked in without knocking. Her father looked up from the paperwork he was doing and seemed surprised to see her but happy too.

"Bells! What brings you here?"

"This isn't going to work dad," she saw his face start to fall and rushed before he got the wrong idea. "The house hasn't changed since mom decorated it, and it feels wrong. I can't even tell you live there half the time. It feels like mom is going to walk though the door at any minute." Honestly that was the main problem she had. It was hard to feel like you left home if home seemed to have followed you.

"Oh," his voice was soft but he didn't seem too upset. "If you want we can go to the store and get new stuff. What were you thinking?"

"New paint for one. The color mom chose was cute at one point I'm sure, but it chipped and fading. Also the blinds don't even match."

"I guess the paint could use a touch up, and yeah they don't."

"We could also bring your fishing gear inside. Unless you like having in the shed."

His face lite up. "That sounds great!"

"Perfect." Bella smiled. "When do you get off?"

"I can leave soon as I finish this. Want to ride together in my car or yours. Which ever gets left we can just come back for."

"The truck would have more space. We just need a tarp."

Her father nodded as he went back to the paperwork. "Can you tell Mary that I'm going to head at soon?"

"The lady at the desk?"

He nodded so she went to let Mary know. Of course as soon as Mary heard Bella would be waiting she had her sit and wait with her. She spent the time showing Bella photo's of her grandchildren and telling her and the things they did in school. Mary seemed like a very proud grandmother. She also kept giving Bella cookies she brought in that she baked at home. They were very good cookies, and Bella couldn't tell the lady no. When her father came out of the office he found her eating cookies and cooing over baby photos. He got roped into it too.

When they finally pulled away Mary gave them a little box with more cookies, and patted Bella's head before letting them go. Her father smiled rushing the two of them out to the truck, and taking Bella's keys. She didn't mind him driving. He knew where they were going better than her anyway. The drive was quite as was the shopping. They chose colors together and got what they would need to hang her fathers gear. It was nice. Nothing like the crazy trips she took with her mother. Bella might not be sure about Forks yet, but she was sure about living with her dad.

[theajaheira]

christmas, 2022

a very special tumblr extra: what the kovacs-cervenak family is up to in the time of now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ellie drew a glittery snowflake on her cookie, tongue between her teeth as she perfected every careful swirl of icing (and determinedly ignored Bella and Art, who were both giving her shit, again, about putting this much effort into a cookie that somebody was going to be eating in two minutes anyway, especially when she couldn’t even bake). The very minute that it was entirely complete, she turned around, smacked the cookie against Art’s forehead, and said, “Eat that, sucker,” before darting out of the kitchen so that Aunt Ellie wouldn’t be able to tell her not to waste food. Which would have been a total victory had she not realized, like, two steps out of the kitchen, that she was now unable to continue her excellent artistic cookie vision, so she stopped in the middle of the hallway and sulked for a minute before she heard Aunt Ellie saying, testily, “ELEANORA ALICE CERVENAK—” and ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

Mom and Dad were necking in the upstairs hallway. “Gross!” Ellie yelled. “Do you not have a bedroom for that?”

“Nora put mistletoe in the hall, Elle, look!” said Mom, who definitely sounded like she’d been partaking of some serious eggnog.

“Oh, no, it’s to the left,” said Dad, “we’re not quite under it, Jenny, look—”

“Invisible mistletoe,” said Mom sagely. “Invistle-toe.” And then she and Dad both started giggling, which was a relief, because it meant that they were not going to notice that Aunt Ellie was totally on the warpath. So Ellie ducked into her room and shut the door behind her just as she heard footsteps on the stairs.

Three knocks on the door. Crisply, Aunt Ellie said, “Eleanora. Get out here.”

“Aww, Nora, don’t yell at her, it’s Christmas!” Mom whined.

“No more starting food fights,” said Aunt Ellie through the door. “We have talked about this.”

“Yeah?” said Ellie. “Well, why don’t you tell Art and Bella to stop being little bitches about my artistic vision?”

“There are other ways to handle conflict,” said Aunt Ellie. “Ways that do not waste food. Wouldn’t that snowflake have been nicer if someone in the family had actually gotten to eat it?”

“No,” said Ellie, smiling sweetly even though no one could see her. “It was predestined for Art’s forehead.”

Another series of knocks. “Elle?” said Art, in that overly saccharine tone of voice that meant he was totally going to kill her when she opened the door. “I’m really sorry I said your cookies were pointless, even though you were using literally all the icing and you weren’t letting Jesse near any of it, even though Jesse is an actual child and should have the cookie-decorating materials—”

Ellie opened the door all the way, saw that the cookie had left a snowflake imprint on Art’s forehead, and said, “Aww! Festive!” before shutting the door again.

“So we’re starting early this year with the melodrama?” said Uncle Don. “What exactly happened?”

“Ellie monopolized the cookie-decorating station and attacked me with icing,” said Art. “And now she’s hiding in her room instead of facing retribution.”

“I was provoked!” said Ellie.

“Can’t hear you,” said Art. “Door in the way.”

Indignantly, Ellie opened the door, started to say, “I was—” and was met with a cookie in the face. She shrieked, tossing it aside. “Arthur!” she said. “You’re wasting the cookies!”

“Oh, so she can understand it when it’s her,” said Aunt Ellie. “Eleanora, please refrain from creating your usual levels of Christmas chaos. When there are this many people in the house, things tend to escalate very quickly, and I would like to not have a repeat of the Great Food Fight of 2019.”

“That was Mom’s fault!” said Ellie, gesturing to Mom and then regretting it. Mom and Dad had gone back to kissing. “Stop that,” she said, but they were very clearly not listening.

“They’re off duty,” said Aunt Ellie, waving a hand.

“Why can’t you be off duty?” Ellie demanded.

“Your Aunt Nora is the cog in the well-oiled machine that keeps this family running,” said Uncle Don, kissing Aunt Ellie on the cheek.

Literally what was in the air that had all the parents kissing this Christmas. “You know what would solve this problem?” said Ellie.

“Don’t say extra icing,” said Mom, who had come up for air.

“Extra icing,” said Ellie.

Mom untangled herself from Dad to give Ellie a look. “Elle, whenever we give you extra anything, you spend the entire party making more of it than anyone at the party can eat,” she said. “Which means we have Christmas cookies cluttering up the kitchen for weeks, because you don’t actually want to eat them, and I don’t want to eat them, and Dad ends up eating all of them so that you don’t feel bad about your artistic efforts going unappreciated, and then he gets sick from the actual art supplies that you used to make some of the cookies and didn’t tell anyone about.”

“I thought they were nice cookies,” said Dad.

“Do not start,” said Mom, pointing a finger at him. “Do not.”

“Dad likes my cookies!” said Ellie hopefully.

“There were glue in the cookies,” said Art to Dad. “Those were not food-safe. I’ve been studying food science—”

“Yeah, it doesn’t take a few books on food science to know that glue in cookies isn’t edible,” said Ellie snidely, realized too late that her attempt to belittle Art had undermined her own argument, and let out a defeated huff. “If I promise not to put glue in the cookies—”

“Baby girl, I love you to the moon and back, but your promises fall to pieces in the face of your larger projects,” said Mom, ruffling Ellie’s hair and totally ruining the perfect look that Ellie had spent like thirty minutes disheveling in the mirror. Now her hair was just actually disheveled! God, parents were the worst sometimes. “Trust me. I know how that kinda thing works. You tell everybody you’re gonna go to sleep at midnight, and then you’ve got just one extra line of code to work out—”

“Art can’t say my cookies are stupid,” said Ellie.

Mom’s eyebrows shot up. “Arthur,” she said.

“I didn’t say stupid!” said Art. “I just said…ill-conceived and a waste of time!”

“Yeah, you’re not getting off on a technicality there, hon,” said Mom. “Just because you and Milo are on the rocks—”

“WHAT WE’RE NOT ON THE ROCKS,” said Art very loudly.

“—does not mean you get to be tetchy with your sister when she does what she does every year,” Mom finished. “There are much more patient ways to tell her to save some icing for Xander’s kids.”

“Ah, yes,” said Dad. “Jenny Cervenak: pinnacle of patience.”

Mom hit him with a sprig of mistletoe. “United front, Rupert.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ellie came back downstairs, Xander’s stupid kids had used up all the icing, which would have made her kill Art for making her have to leave the kitchen, but then Aunt Ellie not handed her a spoon and said, “Try this, Eleanora.” Which turned out to be the first taste of Aunt Ellie’s special sauce, which she never let anyone try until it was out of the pot. “How’s that?” asked Aunt Ellie.

Ellie smacked her lips. “Delish,” she said. “You’re an actual icon, Aunt Ellie.”

“See, that,” said Art. “Injustice. How come Ellie gets to call you Aunt Ellie and everyone else has to stick with Aunt Nora?”

“Do I look like an Aunt Ellie to you?” said Aunt Ellie.

“Yes,” said Ellie, at the same time Art said, “No.”

“There you go,” said Aunt Ellie, and turned back to the special sauce.

Ellie went over to the kitchen table, where Art was sitting and staring out the window at Milo, who was having some conversation with Spike outside. “How come Spike’s all bundled up?” she asked. “Wouldn’t he not need to wear a big winter coat, on account of being dead and stuff?”

“He likes to be included,” said Willow, sitting down at the table next to them. “Hi, Ellie! You make any glue cookies this year?”

“How does everyone know I put glue in them?” said Ellie. “Is there, like, a group chat where everyone talks about my failed art projects?”

“Honey, the last batch of cookies you made were eighty percent glue,” said Willow. “And I’m not sure how you did this, but the glue was a concentrated lake in the center of the cookie. Kira took this really big bite and hacked up enough glue to make a glue stick.”

“Oh, no, the glue got Kira?” said a dismayed Aunt Ellie. “She never said a word about it! Poor darling.”

As if on cue, Kira entered from outside, still a little pink in the face from the snow. “Um, Ms. Kovacs, you have any more hot chocolate?” she asked shyly. “Ezra’s getting a little cold.”

“And he’s suffering in silence, isn’t he?” At Kira’s rueful nod, Aunt Ellie made a little tch sound. “Men.”

“Does Mr. Kovacs do stuff like that sometimes?”

“Not often,” said Aunt Ellie, “but Eleanora’s father seems to be hell-bent on doing it enough for both of them. Do you remember when he nearly got heat stroke at Stacia’s graduation?”

“Very much his fault,” said Stacey, shutting the door after Kira. “Something is seriously wrong with that guy.”

“That’s my dad, you bluestocking,” said Ellie with relish.

“God, you are so Giles’s kid,” said Willow, a badly stifled giggle in her voice.

Abruptly, Art stood up, eyes still on Milo, and hurried outside. Ellie couldn’t hear what they were talking about through the window, but Milo’s smile got all plastic and touchy and he went back inside, leaving Art with Spike and that one friend of Stacey’s that kept coming to everything. Really boring name. Jim or Jake or something. Ellie didn’t care enough to remember it. “Hey, Elle,” said Milo, sitting down across from her at the table. “How’s tricks?”

“Are you gonna break up with my brother?” said Ellie, who had no interest in beating around the bush. “I don’t think I’ve seen you guys in the same room this whole party.”

“That—” Milo sighed. “Can you maybe understand why I might not want to talk to my boyfriend’s little sister about our relationship?”

“No,” said Ellie. “Your boyfriend has the coolest little sister on the planet who knows everything about relationships. Paging Doctor Love—oh, wait, you’ve reached her, and it’s me!” She scooted her chair forward, sitting up on her knees. “C’mon, man. I bet I can fix you guys!”

“Eleanora,” said Aunt Ellie, a warning in her voice.

“No, Aunt Nora, it’s, um, it’s fine,” said Milo awkwardly. “I just, y’know—it’s—” He was already getting up from the table. “Uh, hey, Kira! That’s a whole engagement ring! So you and Ezra—?”

“Ooh, yeah, you didn’t hear?” Kira glowed, flashing the diamond. “I made, like, a billion posts on Instagram!”

“I’m kind of on a social media detox?” said Milo. “You know—after—”

“After Art’s twenty thousand posts from the twenty thousand countries he’s visiting?” said Ellie. “See? I do know what the problem is!”

Aunt Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose and said, “Eleanora, why don’t you go tell Isabella she can try the special sauce?”

Which Ellie normally wouldn’t have done, but Milo was kind of looking a little bit kicked-puppy, and suddenly she did feel a little like a dumb little kid who didn’t know what she was talking about. And it had been mean, saying that to Milo, who was nothing but nice all the time. So she got up, flashing Milo an I’m-really-really-sorry smile, and hurried out of the kitchen to the backyard, which was full of everybody and everybody’s family and everybody’s family’s girlfriends and boyfriends and whatever. Xander was telling a small crowd some story about some monster he and Sonia had fought back when they were with the Council, and Spike had gone over to bring some hot chocolate to Buffy, and Mom and Stacey’s super boring friend were having boring science conversations at the picnic table, and Bella—

Bella was sitting way far away from the party. With Clementine. Clementine with the tattoos who she never stopped yelling at. And they were sharing cider. Clementine’s nose was almost as red as her hair, and she was giggling really hard at something Bella was saying, and Bella was, like, actually smiling. Which Ellie didn’t even know that Bella could do. Surreptitiously, she snapped a photo, then turned to leave—

—and almost collided with Dad. “Oh!” he said, grinning. “Ellie! I was just about to see how your mother’s little snow gremlin is doing!”

“Did Mom put something weird in the shed again?” said Ellie warily.

“Now, Ellie, your mother would prefer her experiments to be viewed nonjudgmentally—”

“One of them tried to eat your face,” said Ellie.

“Yes,” said Dad. “Well. It did apologize after it gained full sentience.”

“So what’s to keep the snow gremlin from eating everybody at this party?” Ellie asked, leaning against Dad a little as they walked towards the shed. “Force fields?”

“Family magic,” said Dad. “Nothing gets in or out of that shed unless it’s directly related to a resident of this house.”

“And Mom doesn’t consider her snow gremlins babies?” said Ellie. “That doesn’t sound like Mom.”

“…Ah,” said Dad. Now he looked a little concerned. “I may have to have a little chat with Jenny about the permeability of her wards.”

Ellie looked at the shed. Then she looked at the multiple Slayers at the party. They can handle it, she decided. She had bigger fish to fry. “Did you see?” she said. “Bella and Clementine!”

Dad blinked. “What?” His eyes landed on Bella, who was taking a tiny little sip out of the mug that Clementine was holding. “Oh,” he said, smiling softly. “That’s—that’s very sweet, Ellie.”

“Sweet?” said Ellie. “It’s so weird! What is going on, anyway? How come everybody picked Christmas to be all gooey?”

Dad gave Ellie this funny little grin. “You really are so terribly like your mother,” he said, and there was so much love in it that Ellie couldn’t even pick a fight about it. So annoying.

[wolfsbanemanor]

Winterfest Headcanons

Back when they were "normal" human Sims, Caleb and Lilith celebrated Winterfest like whoa! Seriously, the Whos down in Whoville had nothing on the Vatores down in Willow Creek. The day after Harvestfest, they started to get ready for Winterfest. Edward put the lights up on every inch of the house, Artesia (and Caleb) baked a metric fuckton of cookies and sent cards to everyone and their dog. (Literally.) They posed for family photos to put on the cards. They even met Santa Claus, er, I mean...Clement Frost...er...Father Winter. (And Artesia maaaay have lowkey woohooed him that Winterfest Edward was stuck working.)

Lilith's gingerbread house fell apart because she went a little too ham on the roof frosting. It was supposed to be entered into a contest, and there was no time to fix it. Caleb ran upstairs and dug a Godzilla toy out of storage and placed it next to the collapsed gingerbread house. It won first prize.

After they were turned into vampires, they soon discovered that most of Forgotten Hollow...well, they just didn't do Winterfest. They put their all into Spooky Day, and they gave Talk Like a Pirate Day everything they had, but Winterfest was a no-go. Everything was so dark and gloomy all year round, but it was especially palpable at Winterfest. None of the houses in FH had any lights. Nobody kissed that special someone under the mistletoe. No wreaths decorated the door, unless you count the one at that Garliclauter Place made of garlic. Nobody baked gingerbread cookies or put together gingerbread houses. No stockings hung on the fireplaces, no garlands adorned staircases, and no lights were seen on any roof.

This was their first Winterfest since their parents' passing, their first Winterfest on their own, the first Winterfest since The Incident With Miss Hell, the first Winterfest since their cousin Lily became a werewolf and (Vlad had told them) wanted nothing more to do with them, and the first Winterfest since they turned into vampires. It was also the first Winterfest since they decided they didn't want to follow Vlad's ways.

The night before Winterfest was due to begin, Lilith threw the curtains open, as the snow fell outside. "It's Winterfest," she declared. "Yeah, so?" asked Caleb. He was sulking and nibbling on somewhat stale Winterfest sugar cookies he'd picked up from the store on impulse yesterday. He had been moody ever since The Incident, and well, all things considered, no one could blame him. "So," declared Lilith. "We need this. Let's get our butts in gear and Do Winterfest!" "Why should we?" asked Caleb. "Come on. Mom and Dad wouldn't want to see you sulking on Winterfest, Vampire or no!" replied Lilith. "Besides," she continued. "All those lights, the greenery, the music...I don't think Vlad will like it very much." (If you want Caleb to do something, all you have to do is play the "it will upset Vlad" card. It works every time.) Caleb's blue-grey eyes lit up, and he put down the shit-ass storebought cookie he didn't like much anyway. "Let's do it!"

They spent the night putting lights up all over their house. Garlands on every wall, the staircases, and the porch. The tree right in the window, where everyone could see it. The radio tuned to the Winterfest Music station, loud enough that it could be heard all the way down by the lake. Even their coffins got decked out for the occasion!

The next night, when it was officially Winterfest, Wolfsbane Manor was all lit up. (It even caused a power surge!) Everyone in town looked with wonder and awe at this unusual-for-Forgotten-Hollow sight. Not to be outdone, Vlad went down to his basement and dug out his own holiday decorations box. It was covered with dust and cobwebs, and contained ornaments they don't even make anymore. He set to work putting his own decorations up, and played "Fwingle Fobs" on his pipe organ.

Father Winter stopped by and left a huge pile of presents under the tree, at both houses. He was asked to decide which one he liked better. He decided he was just happy to see lights up at all in Forgotten Hollow, and soon FH joined all the other Sim neighborhoods in getting ready for Winterfest.

Each year, the Vatore-vs-Straud Winterfest Lights rivalry intensified.

[ageless-aislynn]

I didn’t get a chance to tell y’all last night, frens, but I did manage to finish my Mass Effect: Andromeda playthrough before Camp NaNo began! My first playthrough with Jaal took 120 hours because that Sara would be happy to help you, citizen, to get your cat out of the tree along with any and all other side quests, lol!

For Reyes 😍 I just backed the Jaal playthrough up to Kadara, gave Sara a makeover and romanced the heck out of that scoundrel, lol! So, don’t know how many hours that took. 🤷‍♀️

For Peebee, I didn’t go all of the way back to when we first met her but just grabbed another makeover, then jumped in right before the Zero-G scene 🥳 and finished the game from there in about 60 hours total.

Annnnnd now I’ve found a couple of shortcuts that let me go back to where we’d just landed on Eos (geez, I’d forgotten what a pain that was with all the radiation and no outpost or forward stations yet 😬), took yet another makeover, then played all the way through to the movie night scene and to where we’d defeated the Archon and settled Meridian... in 30 hours total. *fistpump*

Of course, to do that I ended up skipping all of the Architect fights, didn’t do the Turian pathfinder mission so Captain Dunn died because there was only the Salarian and Asari pathfinders and they couldn’t save her without a third, 😥 (I actually feel bad about that, that would be the only thing I’d change in the future in a “fast playthrough” is to make room for saving Cpt Dunn), I opened all of the vaults but didn’t put outposts on Kadara (left all of Reyes’ missions undone, only met with him once or twice so I wouldn’t be tempted by that handsome fella 😳😛) or Elaaden (didn’t even meet with Overlord Morda at all, oops 👀) and didn’t do Peebee or Liam’s loyalty missions because they had no outcome on the ending.

But, I did have plenty of time for my best Turian girl! 💖

Look at how cute we are! Tol and smol, FTW!

Spikey gf movie night sofa snuggles, d’aww...

Vetra is precious and needs to be protected at all costs! *fist thump* 🤗😉

And look at the emails she sent me! (For those who don’t know, Sid is her younger sister who we meet and help along the way. 😉)

But I really want to what sort of MONSTER would choose the second option in the scene where she’s taken you up to look at the view on Kadara. You’re laying there, looking up at the sky and she’s hesitantly confessed that you were kinda acting like maybe you liked her... as more than a friend?

WHO WOULD PICK “SORRY, JUST PLAYING”??? ZOMG, YOU’LL BREAK HER HEART, WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOUUUUUUUU???? You’ve had to flirt with her a bunch of times to get this dialogue, so it’s not like you accidentally romanced her. THEN YOU’D CUT HER DOWN LIKE THAT?

Eobard Thawne will cross over from the Flash multiverse just to SIDE-EYE THE HECK OUT OF YOU if you pick that option. Tell ‘em, Eo!

*gigglesnort* Anyway! I share because I care or, more accurately, I’m still just loving the game so much, I have to tell somebody or 🌈💖 rainbows and hearts 💖🌈 will come bursting out of my fangirl heart like, um, a super cute and decorative Alien chestburster? Wow, that analogy went REALLY wrong, sorry, lol! 🤷‍♀️😬😉

Next, I think I’ll do a full restart and play as Scott but my priority for this month is focusing on my Camp NaNo wordcount, so won’t be spending every free second gaming.

Notice I didn’t say I’d be giving up gaming for the month? Because, yeah, not gonna happen. I enjoy my Halo and Andromeda waaaaay too much for that! 😛

All righty, I’mma get back to writing now. If you read all of this, then just know I consider you a superstar and think you deserve a basket of cookies or other goodies of your choice!

Love you, frens! Take care and see you next time! 💖💖💖

[chromalogue]

I finally did get paid, two days before I hopped on a plane home for the holidays, my mom having covered the ticket. 

The trip took 55 hours.  I’d booked a hotel in Frankfurt to be at the airport early enough, but then the people at the main train station directed me to the wrong train for the airport, and it was a high-speed train, so even getting off at the next stop and going back made me a couple of hours later than I should have been, and I lost my hotel reservation and had to crash on the airport floor.  Then in Montreal I went to scan my passport and realized it wasn’t with me.  I’d dropped it on the plane, and fortunately the flight crew turned it in at the international lost and found, so I managed to run to my gate and all was well.  And then they ovefuelled the plane and we had to change planes and gates anyway.  And then a midnight bus trip to Sudbury, via North Bay, that I simply could not stay awake for, and a twelve-hour wait in Sudbury for a ride to Espanola because the bus here doesn’t run on Saturdays.  And then like a week to recover.

My dad found out the week before I came back that he was getting his cancer surgery on December 21, so I had exactly two days with my parents before they drove down to Toronto, and they’ve been there ever since.  Dad’s very tired of the hospital at this point, but he popped a stitch today so they’re not letting him go yet.  My mom’s getting worried that they’ll be down there until I have to head back to Germany, but she says they’ll visit in the spring. 

So Will and I have been celebrating here at the apartment.  No cookies, no fancy baking, no skiing (I could, the skis are in my parents’ garage and I have the key, but my cell phone doesn’t make calls in Canada, and given my wanton klutzery it doesn’t feel wise to put myself in a situation where my parents are gone and I can’t call for help), but we did decorate the tree, and I’ve been spending my two months of accumulated salary on a) ingredients for the festive meals we planned, b) delicacies I haven’t been able to afford since 2012, c) snacks I couldn’t get in Germany, and d) stuff that got marked down after Christmas. Those last two months in Germany were kind of lean, so I have not been exercising any restraint at all, and it’s been marvellous.

We’ve also been watching Netflix stuff that I’ve missed.  I told myself I was going to get Netflix of my own when I got paid, but, well...

I find myself looking a bit forward to the work I’m going to do when I get back, which is a good sign.  (I did miss one of the deadlines I set for myself. I was writing an application for a research centre that processes applications twice yearly, and trying to do this 1500-word writing thing, and then I got a text that Dad was in the ICU and realized applications weren’t where I wanted to focus my energy.  I can try again in six months, and I hope the folks I’m accountable to understand.)  And now that I know I can turn the heat on, things will be much more comfortable.  Moreover, now that I’m paid there are a dozen other promises I made to myself that I can keep now.  A bus pass.  Bandcamp.  Books.  A pilgrimage to see the Magdeburg Unicorn. 

But I am emphatically not ready to go back yet.  It’s been a weird Christmas, my first one I’ve spent without my folks, and when they do get home it’s going to be really hard to leave them.  I’m also not looking forward to the marathon trip back.  I enjoy travelling, but that was a bit much.  But I’m here now, and everything feels wonderfully ordinary in a way I would have given anything for in November.  So I’m doing my best to just enjoy myself and goof off and not worry.  

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 31: Halloween

I had quite a good Halloween today, everything considered, though I am now absolutely exhausted and a little overwhelmed. And my feet hurt a lot.

I went into work in the morning: very cloudy, rainy/drizzly, cold, atmosphere. Extremely Halloween-like weather, I’ll be honest. I got my backlog of work done, and I stopped in at the registrar for warm apple cider and cookies. I mentioned this event to the library and got some, like, insulted responses, like, how dare they hone in on our event but I have to say… chill out. If they were also doing hot dogs, or even another lunch food, I’d say that’s insulting, but their event really didn’t compete. Also since the event email was nuked because it’s too expensive or whatever, no one knows anything about what’s happening, and I barely even heard this was a thing. They were not our competition. So. I don’t know, the cookie and cider were good and the office was made up in a very spooky manner and all I needed was to engage in some awkward conversation.

There were some nice costumes and make up, people in holiday sweaters or with cute earrings, one co-worker with Halloween makeup and one in a full Halloween get-up, with makeup, and a matching clown mask that she did not wear but kept at the desk to disturb people. She didn’t know where it was from, just found it in her closet, so… I presume it’s cursed. There were also some dressed up students, including, most notably, Sexy Pennywise with some red balloons. One of the housekeepers is afraid of clowns and I felt bad: dude was not having a good time.

Then there was Halloweenies itself. It was drizzly and cold, so we had to separate our grill from our actual food stations: grill outside, stations under the overhang. It actually was not too chilly in my little, dark corner lol. Much more lowkey than other years, not a lot of people just hanging out outside with their food, but we were still very popular and saw a lot of people come by. We ran out of ready beef hotdogs pretty fast, within my shift, and we kept having to tell people we didn’t have any, which kind of sucked. One kid, I felt bad for him, he said he’d be back in 15 minutes, and in that time we got another batch out and then every single one was taken, and then just as the last one was given away, he came back and we still had none. I hope he got one eventually. Anyway, it’s always an enjoyable event. We had a couple medium sized inflated ducks and a large cardboard duck that was positioned to be staring right at me, in honor of the whole duck thing that’s still limping along.

I had a 45 minute shift but stayed a little longer because I didn’t want to have to do any more work before I went home and also I wanted one of the hot dogs. I got one eventually, found a ring pop in the candy bowl. Talked a bit to A about the situation at Circ, still not resolving itself, possibly heading for disaster. Then I left at around quarter to 1.

My plan had been to get some lunch, sit outside, write a little in my notebook but it was too cold and everything was covered in water from the rain. So I took an impulse walk into the historic area instead. There weren’t many people, and it was overcast and rainy and leaf-strewn, so even though they’ve totally given up on Halloween decorations (a big L, in my opinion), the area itself was done up in a spooky way by nature itself. I felt like I kept seeing haunted places, in some way that’s hard to describe. I took a lot of photos.

I walked way longer and farther than I had I intended to, and then I was exhausted and cold. So I went to a coffee shop, which wasn’t crowded for once because it was the middle of the day, got a brown sugar pecan latte, and sat inside for a little bit, writing up notes. Not very useful notes, but that’s okay. Then I headed home.

I had a quick lunch, posted my ficlet, stuff like that, and then I roused myself to make an apple crisp, which I’ve been meaning to do for ages, and also change the sheets on my bed and do some other chores. I also watched Halloweentown because even though it was not part of my childhood, I thought it looked adorable and like something in-season that wasn’t yet more horror. It was good background noise. Then I got a quick dinner. At this point I’m very tired and my feet hurt terribly. Whenever I’m productive, I always end up becoming very anxious in the evening: thinking about what I didn’t do and what I need to do next and what I need to do in the coming days, weeks, months, aaaaah! And of course it’s not a good feeling, so then I feel later like it’s not even worth being productive, because all I get is anxiety. I’m trying, as I head into the end of the year hoping to build better habits, to manage this feeling, to learn, as I think I was once able to do, to shut off the anxiety and just rest in the accomplishment. I did a lot today. I did essentially everything I had set out to do. Now if I hope to do anything tomorrow—starting with a full work day—I need to rest and get some good sleep.

So, overall, I am ready to transition out of the Halloween era, but I do think the day was successful!

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.3

Summary: Penny goes to Walter's loft, so he could help her out with some school assignments

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: None

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Walter and I agreed that he would pick me up from the train station nearby and when I near the vacant parking lot, I can already see him waiting in his truck. He holds up his hand, a sign that he saw me too and I hurry towards the enormous vehicle. I barely see trucks this large here in New York, making me assume he actually brought this with him from Minnesota. Maybe he even moved here with this thing, the trunk stuffed with his belongings.

Though I highly believe this man actually didn’t bring a lot of stuff with him. He doesn’t seem like the type to be very materialistic.

When I open the door, I can’t possibly hide my smile.

Of course I thought about this for awhile (it’s all I thought about the entire class) and debated whether or not this would be a good idea. While this is definitely not a great idea, it doesn’t feel weird or scary. I mean, my mom certainly wouldn’t approve of this and I think my dad would have a stroke if he found out what I was doing.

Is this how people get murdered? Am I too naive?

I don’t think so. I trust Walter. He is a nice man and I’ve been with him alone in his office two times now. That wasn’t scary, he isn’t giving me bad vibes.

Going to his loft shouldn’t be that much different.

‘How were your classes, Penny?’ Walter asks.

A scoff leaves my lips. ‘It was horrid,’ I mumble, placing my backpack in-between my legs. ‘Professor Carter really likes hearing himself speak.’

‘That,’ he says, starting his car, ‘is true. I hate that guy.’

I chuckle. ‘Hate is such a strong word,’ I tell him. ‘I’d like to say he is simply hard to like.’

Walter smiles. ‘Of course.’

I fumble my thumbs as they are placed on my lap, taking in a breath. I’m really nervous, which is completely unnecessary. I feel safe around Walter, I feel noticed around him. It’s nice being noticed, especially by someone like Walter.

‘I didn’t know if you want something,’ Walter says, ‘so I got you some chocolate and cookies. If you don’t like that, please tell me. I can make a small detour to the grocery store.’

‘No, chocolate and cookies are perfect.’ I run my fingers through my hair, as Walter soars over the roads. His driving style fits him perfectly. He is impatient, quick and breaks abruptly, instead of slowly, a complete one eighty compared to my driving style. ‘You’re not gonna kill me, right?’

Walter starts to laugh and it’s the first time I actually see him putting his guard completely down. His eyes are smaller, the little crowfeet appear near them. ‘Of course not. I would lose my only student with sense.’

I lean back against the seat, as I watch how we get deeper into the city. I’m usually never in this part of town. I look to the side, admiring Walter’s beautifully sculptured face. The beard kinda hides it, but I know that his face is close to perfection.

‘You’re staring,’ he says, his eyes not once leaving the road.

Oh dear, I totally am. How incredibly rude of me. ‘I’m sorry,’ I quickly apologize.

‘It’s not a problem. Kinda cute actually.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You always stare in class,’ he says. ‘When things get a little gore, you start to blink really fast, you scrunch up your nose and try to stare at your fingers, but you don’t want to be rude and miss something, so you look up again. Only this time you’re squinting and you make a pretty poor attempt of hiding your disgust.’

‘Wow,’ I chuckle. ‘That’s specific.’

‘Noticing the smallest details is important in my line of work. Tell me what I do during class.’

I swallow as I try to think about everything he does in class. ‘You never look at people when you call out their name. It usually takes around a second or two, before you tear your gaze away from whatever you’re looking at. You are quite insulting when it comes to stupid answers.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You either scoff or roll your eyes,’ I note. ‘Besides, you always look bored, even when someone makes a good point.’

‘That’s because I am,’ he retorts.

‘Teaching really isn’t your thing, is it?’

He snickers. ‘Oh no. You could say I hate it with a passion. But if I do this, I could one day maybe work in the force again. It’s just a little in between jobs.’

‘You miss it, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ he answers. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever missed something that much.’

‘You miss Minnesota?’

He shakes his head. ‘I mean, a little of course, but New York is great too.’

‘Are you married? Or do you have someone?’ I ask.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I haven’t met her yet,’ he says. ‘Besides, I’m picky. You got a boyfriend?’

I can’t even stop my laughter. ‘No, of course not,’ I answer. ‘There is no one that likes me anyways.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he says in a pretty harsh tone. ‘You’re a lovely girl and any guy would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend.’

My cheeks burn up. ‘You think so?’

‘I know so, Penny. Let me tell you this: you are amazing, smart and the guy you end up with is gonna be one lucky man, since you’re probably out of his league anyway.’

He really thinks so?

Walter parks his car in the parking garage underneath the apartment building and he tells me to wait, as he gets out. He walks around the truck and opens the door for me.

‘I can open my own door, you know?’

‘I know,’ he chuckles, gesturing to hand over my bag. ‘But I couldn’t do it back at the station, so humor me for a second, okay?’

‘Of course.’ I grab his hand and he helps me out the car. Together we walk towards the elevator and I nervously roll my ankle, as we wait for the elevator to arrive at the right floor.

It abruptly stops and we walk out towards his door. He pushes it open, telling me to go in first.

His loft meets up to the expectations I had. Boring. Nearly empty. Only decorated with the necessities. ‘Right,’ I say. ‘This is exactly what I thought it would be.’

Walter hangs his coat over the back of the chair. ‘Is that so?’

I let the material of my own jacket slide off my shoulders. ‘Mhm, you have very little taste.’

‘I’d like to call it minimalistic,’ he retorts, as he takes my jacket from me hands. He tells me to sit and relax, while he makes us some tea.

I carefully take place on his couch, looking around me. Thankfully he removed all the eventual crime scene photos, files or anything related to the gory side of police work.

‘Here you go.’

‘Thank you,’ I say to Walter as he sits next to me, placing the tea on the coffee table. The couch cushion I’m sitting on, slightly dips to the right as he takes place. I have to tighten all my non existent muscles to not slide towards him, however I am not very strong, nor fit, so I bump against his side. ‘Sorry,’ I say.

‘It’s okay. Tell me, what are subjects that you struggle with.’

‘Everything,’ I admit.

He smiles. ‘Then I shall help you with everything.’

✎ ✎ ✎

My brain hurts from all the things Walter says to me and the way he answers all my questions. It’s so sweet and considerate of him to literally minimize everything to a level I could understand it. I take off my glasses as I rub my eyes. Walter has placed his arm on the armrest, our bodies closer than I’ve ever been to someone who I thought was attractive.

‘This isn’t working,’ Walter says, when it’s obvious I’m not registering anything anymore. ‘You need a break.’ He places my laptop and papers on the coffee table and stands up. He ushers me to follow him and I nearly run after him, since he’s taking such large strides.

‘Where are we going?’

He slides open the doors that lead to a little balcony. It’s just as boring as the rest of his place, but the view on the other hand is absolutely lovely. I walk towards the balustrade, holding the cold metal as I look over the city.

‘Wow,’ I say, ‘this is so beautiful.’

He smiles as he stands next to me. ‘It sure is.’

‘I’ve never saw the city like this,’ I say.

‘Where you’re from originally?’

‘Maryland,’ I answer. ‘But New York is really fun as well. Maybe even more so, if I’m being honest.’

‘I’ve never been there,’ Walter says, placing his underarms on the balustrade, so we’re around the same height. He looks to the side, at the same time the wind blows. He chuckles, when strands of my hair slap him across the face.

‘Sorry,’ I smile, as I try to contain the wild hairs.

He holds out his hand, pushing back a strand behind my ear. ‘That’s okay, Penny. You like it out here?’

‘Yes, I really do. It’s nice to take a bit of a breather. I’m sorry I am not really getting it.’

‘No, don’t be silly,’ he says, ‘you’re doing great. It’s my teaching skills that are lacking.’

I bite my lip as I take in his entire face. He is so close, just like he was back in the living room. He placed his arm on the backrest of the couch, his body so close near mine, that I could smell his lovely cologne.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he softly admits, almost as if he doesn’t want me to hear.

‘Oh,’ I whisper, slightly taken aback, ‘really?’

‘Really. You have your phone with you?’

I pull it out of my back pocket. ‘Yes, why?’

‘Allow me to memorize this moment for you.’

It’s a slightly odd request, but I give him the phone and he takes a few pictures of me. For some reason, I don’t feel awkward. Usually I take pictures by myself or I let my mom take one, but that’s only the case when she wants to make a picture for her friends to show me off.

With Walter behind the camera, I’m relaxed and not so nervous.

Which is strange. I keep forgetting he is my professor. With his head, he nods me over and I look over his arm to the phone screen. ‘They look good,’ I say.

‘Not just good,’ he says. ‘You look amazing.’

He hands me back my phone and at the same time, a slightly cold breeze causes me to tense up and shiver a bit. ‘You cold?’

‘A little,’ I admit.

‘Wait here.’

Walter walks back inside, leaving me be for a little while. I look over the city. The cars, the different type of houses. Dogs barking, young kids laughing and just people having fun in general.

‘Here you go,’ Walter says, ‘I got you a sweater and some tea.’

I look over my shoulder, to see him placing two steaming mugs of tea on the tiny table and indeed a thick sweater (one of his own) in his hands. ‘You’re really going out of your way for me,’ I admit. ‘That’s nice.’

He frowns. ‘No one’s ever gone out of their way for you before?’

I shake my head.

‘Let me be the first then.’ He actually helps me into the sweater and gently pulls out my hairs from the sweater.

I take place on the slightly uncomfortable chair. It’s a bit windy, but not unpleasant. Especially not when I’m wearing a sweater this warm.

‘What are you thinking?’ I ask Walter.

He shrugs. ‘Just something crossed my mind, but I don’t want to intrude.’

‘You could never. If someone is intruding, then it’s totally me. I mean, I literally am at your place, because school’s too hard for me. Seriously, you can ask me anything you want.’

‘When did you find out you were placed at the church?’

I wrap my fingers around my mug and say: ‘My mom always said that I was a special delivery from the stork. I knew I was adopted, but I never thought more of it. My parents were simply my parents, even though they didn’t look like me. One day a kid in my class thought it was stupid I had white parents, when I clearly wasn’t, I realized it maybe was a bit weird. So I asked them about it and they told me the entire story.’

‘Must’ve been hard,’ Walter says.

I shrug. ‘Kinda.’

‘Does it bother you to this day? In your day to day life?’

These are very intense questions. He really does want to get to know me better, right? ‘You kinda carry it with you all the time,’ I say. ‘Oh no, I’m gonna cry.’ I blink my eyes fast, as I try to redirect both my feelings and his attention. ‘This is stupid, I’m sorry.’

‘No, no, no,’ he says, in such a soft and caring tone, that it almost makes me cry a little more. When was the last time someone was this caring about me outside my family? ‘Don’t apologize for your feelings.’

It just doesn’t match. His uninterested appearance versus this hidden caring nature of his. He leans forward and places his hand on my knee. A simple gesture, enough however to stop my heart from working. ‘I’ll try,’ I say, wiping the tears from my cheeks. ‘I promise.’

✎ ✎ ✎

After the well needed break, I was in the right mindset and managed to get a lot of work done. Turns out: I’m not stupid, I’m just a bit slow from time to time. Having someone that helps me, gives me a better understanding of it all.

‘You know,’ I say, as I pack my stuff in my bag, ‘your hair is quite dry and frizzy.’

‘Is it?’ Walter asks with a chuckle. ‘You have some nerves, young lady, to tell me my hair is frizzy after I helped you out.’

‘Just want to give you a bit of advice in return,’ I snicker.

‘Well, since you want to go to cosmetology school so badly, you tell me next week what products I need to use and I’ll be your test subject, how about that?’

He wants to see me again? Or does he mean after school? Or simply through texts?

‘Really?’

‘Of course, Penny.’

‘Thank you again for helping me out,’ I say. ‘I know this isn’t exactly in your job description.’

‘I’m happy to help, if it’s in my job description or not.’ He grabs my coat and helps me in it. ‘You want a lift?’

I shake my head. ‘It’s still light outside and I can go by bus. I need to do some groceries anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I am sure,’ I say. ‘Really, it’s not a big deal.’

‘Just share your location with me, okay? I want to make sure you’re back safe.’

Walter is such a caring and loving man, though he tries to hide it underneath all that grumpiness.

‘Okay, will do,’ I say, after I put on my shoes. I place my bag on the floor, grab my phone and start sharing my location with him for the next four hours. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him, when I push my phone in my back pocket and the two of us lock eyes.

‘Nothing,’ he says. ‘I just really got to know you. That was nice.’

I smile. ‘It totally was,’ I say. ‘I’d like to get to know you a bit more next time.’

Next time? I’m really suggesting a next time?

Walter barely responds to it, only a small cocking of his eyebrow. ‘Next time,’ he says. ‘You’ll get to know plenty about me.’ He takes a step forward, only for me to be able to smell his cologne. Gosh, what does one say right now?

While I’m contemplating the best topics, Walter seemed to have no issue coming up with something. ‘You’re staring again,’ he notes.

‘No, I’m not,’ I say to him, way too quickly. ‘Okay, maybe I was.’

You have to ask me again later on how exactly, but somehow my back is pressed against the wall. Walter places his hand on my cheek, his calloused thumb brushing over my parted lips. I don’t know where to look, but my gaze stops at his kissable looking lips.

His body is pressed against mine and two slow seconds passes before I feel his lips on mine.

What is this? Is he truly kissing me? I can’t believe this. My first kiss. I hold onto his thick sweater, my fingers wrapping tightly on the fabric, almost solely because my knees start to wobble like crazy. It’s the first time I felt someone’s lips on mine. Someone’s beard scratching my chin. Never before did I feel someone’s tongue carefully over my bottom lip. He cages me in between his thick arms. He is so much more overpowering, dominant, but boy, is it a role that suits him so well.

Much to my dismay, he pulls back to flash me a tiny smile. ‘I’ve been thinking about doing this for quite some time now today.’

‘Why?’ I ask him.

He smiles. ‘Just because,’ he says.

‘Well, I’ve been thinking about it too,’ I whisper.

‘What stopped you from doing it?’

‘You’re my professor, Walter.’

He nods. ‘I know. That should’ve stopped me,’ he admits.

‘No, no,’ I say, placing my hands on both sides of his face. ‘Don’t let it stop you. Please don’t.’ It sounds slightly needy, but I can’t help it. It’s the first time in my entire life I feel this alive. With his understanding, I notice finally the ability for me to figure out who I am as a person. However, those words stay close to my heart. I bite my bottom lip and he interprets it as an invitation and I’m so thankful he does.

The kiss is less soft than the previous one, far more intense. I don’t want to stop kissing him. His lips part from mine, evading his way to my nape to press wet kisses on the delicate skin. My fingers run through his hair. ‘Walter,’ I say and he looks up. I always notice the shift in gazes when he is with me. So much softer, gentle and caring than he is in class or with others. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Sure about what?’

‘Me?’

A crooked smile appears on his lips. ‘I’ve never been so sure.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Once I got home, realization truly hit. I just kissed my professor.

Was it smart? No.

Will I do it again? Probably.

Oh my, I’m falling for him, aren’t I? I had this insanely goofy grin on my face as I sat in the bus, did my groceries and went to my dorm. I bet I looked like a moron, but I couldn’t help myself. Walter’s lips on mine felt so good.

Those lips will be all I am going to think about. I take off my coat, only to realize I’m still wearing his sweater. It smells like him, his wonderful cologne.

I’m this deep in thoughts and little dreams, that I yelp when I hear a text coming in.

Walter: You’re home safe, right?

Oh, that’s right. I was sharing my location with him.

Me: Yes, I just walked in

Walter: Did you lock your door?

Me: Yes

Walter: Okay good

Me: Thanks for your help btw

Walter: Of course, not a problem

Me: I think I’m gonna go get ready for bed

Walter: Alright, princess

Walter: Good night

✎ ✎ ✎

[cassava-49]

Hiding

A six years old Felix hid underneath the buffet table, trying to avoid anymore of the party. He huffed as he leaned on one of the table's leg and began munching on the cookie he snatched. He began dusting the crumbs off him as he crept to the front and raised the table cloth just a little so that he could see what's happening.

Outside he could see his cousin, Adrien, with their bratty friend, Chloe, trying to find him. He couldn't help but giggle seeing that Chloe was concerned for him. But they're not really the reason to why he's hiding, he looked to the far left and found the Italian brat that had been clinging to him the entire night. He watched as she had teary eyes trying to find him. He turned to where Adrien and Chloe were and muttered an apology for leaving. If he could allow them to hide with him he would, but knowing that the two can't sit still without saying a word, they'd be caught without even trying. He then laid back only to bump into another body.

He rubbed his head to find a little girl with short dark blue hair, copying his action. "What are you doing here?" the girl asked in a soft annoyed voice, so not to get caught. He glared at the girl and whisper shouted at her, "That's my line!" She huffed, placing her hands on her waist. "But this is my hiding place," she stated her claim.

Felix mimicked the girl's action to intimidate her. "Yeah, but I don't see anything here that says this is your spot," he snarkly replied. "This is my parents' buffet table, so this is my spot," she defended herself. He huffed and replied, "Well, my parents payed for the food, so this is my hiding spot, too." The little girl scoffed and said, "Your parents didn't pay for the food, the Bourgeoises did, I know because that brat Chloe came by."

This made the two huff as they folded their arms together, turning their heads to the opposite direction. After a few minutes of angry silence, Felix began to crawl to the other side of the table. "Hey, where are you going?" the little girl called out. "To the other side, duh. You take that side and I'll take this side," he replied as he stationed himself to the other leg of the table. She blinked her eyes at the offer and smiled, taking up as much space as she wants. She then took out her small handkerchief and laid it on the floor revealing the few snacks she smuggled, just like a mini picnic.

This caught the little boy's attention. The little girl noticed his stares at the treats and smiled, offering him a macaroon. His eyes widened at the her offer but stubbornly refused, only to have his stomach betray him by releasing a loud grumbling sound. This made the girl giggle and asked him to come over and eat with him. He placed an annoyed look on his face, but happily went over for a snack, taking the macaroon from her hands.

"What's your name?" she asked as he began eating. "Felix," he replied after he swallowed the food in his mouth. She smiled and said, "I'm Marinette." He nodded in recognition and took a cupcake. Marinette began munching on a cookie as she peeked under the table cloth. There she could see her parents serving to the people at the buffet table and mingling with one of the staff members.

"Why are you hiding anyway?" Felix asked as he noticed her peeking outside. "I'm not hiding, my parents know where I am," she replied as she ate the last part of the cookie. "Then why are you under the table?" he asked as he took another macaroon. She shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I don't like being around a lot of people. What about you, are you hiding?"

He nodded and took another cookie. "I don't like the other guest's daughter. She's annoying and clingy, not to mention a liar. I don't believe a thing she says it's all absurd," he replied. This caught her interest as she asked, "Who?" He gestured for her to peek under the tablecloth with him. He looked for the brown haired girl and pointed at her.

"Her, the one dancing with the butler," he said. She stared at the girl and commented, "She doesn't look bad." This made the blond scoff and said, "To you, but once you get to know her you'll see."

"Marinette," a voice from outside called as a large man looked at them from the other side of the table. "Papa!" she squealed excitedly as she approached him. Noticing the other child, Tom smiled and asked, "Who's your new friend?" Remembering that Felix was with her she gestured to the young boy. "This is Felix, he's hiding," she said. This made the man hum in understanding and said, "Well, why don't you keep him company in hiding?" She nodded enthusiastically as she turned to her friend, who had a confused look on his face. "Alright, young man take care of my daughter for me," he said as he left. Felix nodded and turned to find that they already ate all the snacks.

"Aren't there any more food?" he asked in a disappointed voice. "Nope, we ate them all," she replied as she began wiping the young boy's face. "Wait, wha-what are you doing?" he asked as he slowly backed away. She giggled at his reaction and said, "You had crumbs on your face, silly." For some reason the young boy could feel his face heat up at the sudden contact. Once she finished, she say opposite him and began dusting her pink dress.

"Where are you going?" Felix asked as he noticed her about to leave. "Out, it's getting hot in here. I want some air," she said. "But, but you said you weren't going to leave me," he called out, a bit surprised about this. He didn't know what he was feeling, but right now he doesn't want this girl to leave him. "Did I?" she asked a bit confused too. She then snapped her fingers, recalling what she said. "Well, are you coming with me?" she asked.

He nodded his head as they got out of the table. "I know where we could get some air," he said. "Where?" she asked. "Let's go to the rooftop, that way we can watch the fireworks, too. And I'm still hiding, you know," he offered. This excited the young girl as she nodded and asked him to lead the way.

"Let's go," he said as he took small her hand in his. This action made his small heart beat fast, but unsure about it. They navigated their way towards the elevator, avoiding his friends and parents, as well as Lila. They passed by a little Japanese girl, who was standing next to her mother, who had an iron hold on her small hand. Marinette gave the little girl a smile and wave as she slipped a cookie into her hand. This made the girl smile at her and began nibbling on the treat.

When they arrived at the front of the elevator, Felix had to let go of her hand as he jumped to reach the buttons. The elevator door opened to a young rockstar, who looked at them a bit curious. "What're you kids up to?" he asked a bit concerned by the fact that they were unattended. "My friend Marinette needs to go to the bathroom on the first floor. She doesn't like the toilets on this floor and our parents can't take us there, so we'll be going together," Felix lied. This made the rocker let out a laugh at their cuteness. "Alright, be careful little ones," he said as he gave each of them a pat on the head.

With that, both of them got in the elevator and went forth to the top floor. Once on the roof, the little girl's eyes were wide with wonder as she began exploring the grounds, since it was empty but was elaborately decorated. Felix watched as she stared at a giant lantern next to the ball pit. He placed his hands in his pockets and found a coin, this motivated him to impress her.

"It's so pretty out here!" she paused as she looked at the sky above which had a few stars shining. "Thanks for bringing me here, Felix," she said as she bounced her way to the railing, Felix close to her. "Do your want to see a magic trick?" he asked as she looked at the streets below. She turned to him with wide eyes and asked, "You can do magic?" He smiled and nodded at the little girl. "Show me, show me," she demanded as she pulled at his arm.

Without being told twice, he pulled out a coin behind her ear. She gasped and took the coin from him. "Hey, that's my coin," he said, wanting to take it back. "But you pulled it out of my ear," she said as she tried to keep it out of his reach. "It's my magic, so it's mine. I'll give you something else," he offered. He took out his handkerchief and placed it over his hand. When he took it off he held a rose (which he took from one of the displays). She gasped at the beauty, because she never really held a rose before. "You can have this one, but the coin's mine," he said as she took the rose.

"Nope, I'm keeping this coin and this flower," she greedily said as he pouted. "Fine, I'll give you something in exchange for the coin," he said. She blinked her eyes processing what he said. He began searching his pockets and could only find his heirloom, the Graham de Vanilly ring, one for him the other for Adrien. "If I get you to wear this ring, you'll have to give me the money back," he said. She giggled and said, "That's impossible, you'll never get me to wear that." He shrugged and asked, "But if I do you have to give it back, deal?"

Marinette looked at his hand suspiciously not wanting to touch it, in case he slips it on her. "Alright, I'll place it here," he says as he placed it on the floor. He looked at his watch and knew what to do. Satisfied knowing that he won't be slipping it on by hand shake, she said, "Deal."

On cue, the fireworks began, surprising the girl as she looked up to the sky, only to have the little boy kiss her cheek, confusing her more. She pushed him off her with red cheeks. He began to say something to her, but she couldn't hear. "What?" she asked, not understanding. She watched him laugh as he pointed at her hand mouthing, "Check your finger." Surprised, she looked and found the ring was on her right ring finger. She watched as he picked up the coin and the rose. He approached her and placed the flower into her hands with a sweet smile. "Here, you can have the rose, it's pretty just like you," he stated causing the little girl to blush at his words.

She looked back at the ring, which was very loose in her finger and asked, "Does this mean we're married?" This question made the other child go red in embarrassment. "N-not re-really, I-I just placed it on you, bu-but it doesn't really ne-need to mean we are—" he stopped his rambling when the ravenette placed a kiss on his cheek as well. "I like you," she said with a smile.

That was it, Felix Graham de Vanilly finally knew what the meaning of his affections towards this six years old girl. He has a crush.

...

14 years later

Felix continued to twirl the coin in between his fingers. It has been years since he'd seen that little girl. Until now, he still can't help but feel the undying crush he had on her. Ever since they got back from the rooftop, he got a nagging from Chloe for leaving them for Marinette. She even tore the rose he gave her. From then on he had that boiling anger and hatred towards the blonde. He still couldn't forget the tears of the little girl as she ran away from them, eyes full of her and helplessness.

Every time he went to Paris he would be very aware of his surroundings hoping to find her again. If she still remembers him he'd like to get to know her better. If she doesn't want to be his friend then he'd rather apologize to her and her his heirloom back. He just needs to see her one more time. He gave out another sigh, it's already been 14 years and he still hasn't gotten over it.

He looked at the Grand Palace Hotel, the Bourgeois family is again holding a New Year party. He, of course, is one of the guests, along with some high class figures as well as old classmates of the now mature Chloe Bourgeois, making this a semi formal event. He got out of the car and entered the building, there he was greeted by the staff and the other guests. He began to search the crowd for a familiar face and found Adrien at the bar talking with some friends.

"Felix!" an all too familiar voice called. He turned to find the hostess herself in her glamorous black and yellow cocktail dress. "Chloe," he greeted with civility. "It's so nice that you could join us. I told Adrien that if he kept pestering you, you're bound to arrive, and I was right, as always," she said. "You've known me your entire life, glad to see you haven't lost your touch," he replied as she began to guide him to where Adrien is.

"Adrikins," Chloe said as she approached him taking two seats next to him. "Chloe, you found Felix. I thought you weren't coming," Adrien said he hugged his cousin, much to his formal behaviour. "Lovely, now may I get myself a drink," he said as he sat next to Adrien and ordered a drink from the bartender. Adrien chuckled and said, "You never change, Fè. But since you're very into introductions, let me introduce you to my friends." Felix turned to finally notice the two people he had been talking to. He's vaguely familiar with them remembering the video they sent to Adrien six years ago. "This is Nino, he's studying Arts," Adrien introduced as he gestured to his dark skinned make friend. "Hey, ma dude. I know it's been a while, but you don't need to worry about that video you sent us, Adrien explained it to us and we're all kinda cool about it," Nino said as they shook hands. "Pleasure, and thank you, but I'm still sorry for it. It was the most immature and petty thing I ever did to anyone," Felix replied. "This is Alya, she's taking journalism," Adrien said. "I've seen your blog, it keeps improving ever since you started," Felix complimented. "Well, with that compliment how can I not forgive you," Alya joked.

"Ugh, where's Dupain-Cheng and Tsurugi? I told them to get change, but what's taking them so long?" Chloe ranted. Dupain-Cheng, Felix thought, finding the name and the way she said it all too familiar. "This is your fault for telling them that they'll be one of the waiters," Adrien teased. "I was joking alright, why do you guys take me so seriously?" Chloe complained. Making everyone laugh at her statement. "You really need to tone it down, you always sound so serious," someone said as they placed their hands on Chloe's shoulders. "Luka, when did you get here? I thought you said that you couldn't make it because of your gig in London?" Chloe exclaimed. "I couldn't miss my girlfriend's party now, couldn't I?" the rocker said as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Felix, I want you to meet my boyfriend, Luka," Chloe proudly proclaimed. "You have a boyfriend?" Felix joked making everyone laugh. "What can I say, she has a melodic song," Luka said as he placed his arm over her. "I guess you got yourself a keeper, cheers to you," Felix congratulated, but somehow felt a bit jealous. How can someone who broke his childhood love end up with someone as charming as him?

"Sorry guys, we're late," someone said as they approached the group. "About time my lady, it seems like you've been keeping my precious dragon from me," Adrien said as he wrapped his arms around Kagami placing a kiss on her forehead. "Down kitty, I just got her hair done, don't mess it up," the girl with bluebell eyes scolded. "Don't worry Marinette, you know that I love you more than him," the Japanese girl stated causing the blond to pout.

Marinette, Felix thought as he began to stare at her. He recognised he from his cousin's video, one of the girl's that's in love with him. It turns out she just gave it all up for the girl beside her. He noticed her dark hair was similar to that of the Marinette he knew, they never really gave last names. Her eyes were as blue as the sky, he couldn't remember the little girl's eyes since it was very dark and he wasn't sure. She wore an elegant pink dress with a ladybug hairpiece.

He continued to stare, unaware of Chloe's critical eyes. She hung her head in guilt for a few seconds and immediately replaced it with a smile as she sauntered her way to the two ladies. "Dupain-Cheng, Tsurugi, what took both of you so long? Why did you even take me seriously when I said you'll be serving tonight?" Chloe said as the two girls laughed. "Anyway, let me introduce or reintroduce you to someone," she added as she guided them towards Felix.

He unconsciously straightened himself as they neared him. Taking one more sip from his drink he straightened himself to meet her. "Marinette this is Felix, you remember him, don't you?" Chloe said. "Yes, I remember him," she said with a hint of anger and irritation from her voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you, but I must apologize for my behaviour six years ago, not a very good time of mine," he said as they shook hands. She smiled politely at him as she turned to the person next to him. "Luka, why didn't you tell us you were coming?" she exclaimed as she gave the artist a hug.

"Well, I wanted to surprise all of you, but mostly Chloe," Luka said. "Sorry Marinette, but paws off my boyfriend. We're going around and check on the guests," Chloe said as she came in between them. Marinette chuckled and said, "Wouldn't dream of it Chloe." She turned to her friends and joined in on their conversation. She ordered herself a drink as she stationed herself next to Alya and Kagami.

Felix didn't really mind this since it gives him better access to observe her from afar. He sat there with them, just listening on their conversation jumping in any time they ask him. They continued the conversation until an upbeat song began to play. "This is my jam, Marinette let's dance," Alya exclaimed as she dragged her friend to the dance floor. Marinette, as well, dragged Kagami with her as the three headed to the dancefloor. Felix turned to his companions as they continued to watch their girlfriends enjoy themselves. "Aren't you going to join them?" Felix asked hinting to them that they should. Nino waved him a hand, keeping his eyes on his girl. "Nah, I've got a better view here," he replied. "I agree with you on that," Adrien seconded. Felix turned his eyes to the three and couldn't help but feel drawn to the girl named Marinette. The more she stared the more he thought of the little girl he met.

That's impossible, I doubt that it would be her, he thought as he looked away. He gave out a sigh that no one would be able to hear. "You know what, let's dance," Adrien said, clearly tempted to join the girls. "Are you sure? The view is still the better," Nino said. "I know, but that doesn't mean we're the only ones who's watching," Adrien pointed out as he looked at a group of men slowly approaching the girls. This made Nino release a deep growl and got up from his seat following his friend. "Are you joining us, Felix?" Nino offered. Felix politely shook his head and said, "I'm not a big fan of dancing in a crowd." Nino nodded and immediately wrapped his arms around Alya from behind as he glared at the approaching competitors.

Marinette laughed at the two boys as she followed their line of sight. "You two couldn't resist?" she asked. "How could we when we're not the only ones who love dancing," Adrien replied as he danced with Kagami. "By the way Marinette, if you haven't noticed Felix had been looking at you the entire night," Kagami said as she subtly gestured to the lonely blond at the bar. Marinette giggled at this statement and replied, "I don't think so." Alya joined in and said, "Nah girl, Kagami's right. Right now he's been eyeing you for a while now. He's been watching since you came and mostly now that you're dancing."

"I'm with Marinette on this one guys," Adrien said. "What, you don't count bro. You've been clueless for a long time so I doubt you'll notice this one," Nino stated. Adrien still shook his head and reasoned, "Hate to tell you guys, but I've known him for a long time. He has this major crush on this girl he met when we were six or seven during a new year's party here at the hotel. But Chloe kind of scared her off and he hasn't seen her ever since. He still hasn't gotten over her until now, so I don't think so."

This somehow froze Marinette in her spot, since the story sounded all too familiar to her. She unconsciously brought her hand to the ring around her neck, which she had from that boy, whose name she can no longer remember . She glanced at the boy at the bar to find him mingling with... Lila. This twisted her heart for some reason, she doesn't know what this feeling she has, seeing him talk with the liar. She bit her lip wanting to leave. Thankfully a slow dance began, giving her an excuse to leave the floor.

She turned to the buffet table to have a bit of the desserts there to ease herself. She looked at the dancefloor and watched as her friends lovingly enjoyed each others embrace. She could see Alya and Nino, Juleka and Rose, Sabrina and her boyfriend, Nathaniel and Marc, Chloe and Luka, Kagami and Adrien.

She smiled, after they defeated Hawkmoth they revealed their identities to each other. She was really surprised by the fact that her partner has been Adrien the entire time. They did start dating, but they never really lasted after they entered college. Turns out she had been holding back even until she dated Adrien. She was actually confused too, she never knew that she was holding, back as if she was waiting for someone. This made her grasp the ring that had been around her neck like some necklace ornament.

She did receive this from a little boy who she called her husband when she was until eight. That was when she finally accepted the fact that they'll never meet again. When she turned nine, that was when Chloe's bullying got worse, making her passive and detached, not having a best friend to cling on to.

What was that boy's name again? Finn... Finley... Francis... Francisco... Fernando...Frederick... Ferdinand... Fergus... "Felix," she mumbled under her breath tightening her grip around the ring. Could it be? She thought as she tried to find him in the crowd again, but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed and shook her head finding it impossible. The Felix she knew is kind, considerate and sweet. This Felix is sly, devious, and perverted. She frowned at she recalled the memory of him trying to kiss her as Ladybug.

"Aw, what's with the frown sweetheart? You look better with a smile," a man in his mid twenties said as he approached her. Not liking the attention she turned away, wanting to avoid his advances. Despite the silent treatment he continued to talk to her. "Sorry, that was a bit forward of me," he apologized as he tailed her. "I just noticed that you were alone by the buffet table and thought that maybe I should introduce myself to a lovely lady like yourself," he continued.

"You're mistaken sir, but I'm not alone," she replied trying to lose him in the crowd. "You came with your friends, right? Or do you have a boyfriend?" he pursued. "I'm with my friends and I think they're looking for me," she replied as she navigated her way back to the bar. "Can't we at least talk, I'd like to have a chat with you for a bit. Something not business related, it gives a stale taste to the party," he said as he sat down next to her. "Why not I buy you a drink, miss?" he offered.

Marinette politely shook her head with disinterest. "Alright, alright, no drinks. I'm François by the way, what's the lovely angel's name?" he asked leaning forward, brushing his hand against his. This made her flinch at the contact trying to move away from him. "I'm sure I've clearly showed that I'm not interested," she hissed as her patience thinned. "Are you sure? It looks to me we're playing cat and mouse, you don't have to worry, I like the chase," he said as he leaned in again.

Before she could say anything, she felt someone place a hand behind her as he approached them. "If you may, sir, she has clearly stated that she's not interested. Just leave it at that, and respect her decision," Felix stated. The man scoffed as he stood up trying to match him, only to find that he's five inches smaller than the tall man. "Yeah, but who are you to interrupt us," he dared trying to assert dominance.

"My fiancee, obviously," she casually said glaring at the man. "But you're not—," François stopped when he saw the ring around her neck. "I wear my engagement ring this way to see how many of you are really observant enough to notice it," she stated. He turned to Felix, who was glaring at him with a fiercer intensity than before. This made the man stiffen under the blond's gaze and began to walk away. Once out of earshot he looked at her and smirked.

"Fiancée?" he teased as he sat next to her. She scoffed at him and said, "That's the easiest way to prove your relationship to me." He chuckled at her looked at the ring around her neck, only to smile at the confirmation. "Anyway, thank you," she replied as she ordered herself a drink. Noticing his eyes on the ring, she felt herself blush at the thought of the possibility of the little boy being him. "May I see it?" he asked when he got her attention. Seeing no harm in having him see it, she removed the ring around her neck and gave it to him.

She observed his reactions, she suddenly worried when she noticed a sly smile slowly creep on his face. "Where'd you get this ring?" he asked. She shrugged as she placed her drink on the counter. "A little boy gave it to me when I was six," she replied trying to keep it vague. He hummed as he asked again, "Do you know why he gave it to you?" This made her blush as she recalled her saying that their engaged now that he slipped the ring on her finger. "He-he gave it to me as a proposal," she replied as she looked away with red cheeks.

She heard a chuckle coming from him. "I think you're wrong. I believe he gave it to you in exchange for this," Felix said as he made the coin appear from behind her ear. She gasped as she recalled the trick he performed for her, which was followed by their refutes about the coin. She heard him chuckle again at her reaction. "Do you still remember the young boy's name?" he curiously asked with a knowing smile on his face.

Her eyes went wide as she exclaimed, "You can't, you can't be? Felix?" He smiled and showed the ring and coin as he pointed something out. "This ring, if you must know, is a family heirloom. This is one of the Graham de Vanilly twin rings. You see the ring Adrien wears, this is one of its pairs as the current generation of our family," he said as he placed the coin in her hand. "And that coin, is the very coin that I've shown you from before," he added with a gentle smile.

"Can, can we get some air?" she asked hoping he'd say the same thing. "I know a great place that we can go to. Let's go to the rooftop, we can watch the fireworks up there, too Marinette," he replied as he took her hand in his and dragged her towards the elevator.

They passed Chloe, who had a proud smile on her face as she whispered an apology. They passed Lila who was flirting to a storm with another man. They past Kagami and Adrien, who were resting after all the dancing on one of the chairs. Marinette smiled and waved her hand at the Japanese girl, who in turn smiled at her with a small wave. They stopped in front of the elevator door as Felix pressed the button, this time not letting go of her hand. The door opened to Jagged Stone, now in his golden age.

"Marinette, my girl where you headed?" he asked as he turned to the boy next to her. "Why am I getting a sense of déjà vu right now?" he asked as he gave out a chuckle. "Nothing uncle Jagged, I just want to take Felix to the best place to watch the fireworks," she said with a smile. "I remembered a long time ago when there was a small pair with the same hair colour as the both of you going into the elevator giving out the cutest excuse I've ever heard," he replied as he bid goodbye to the two.

Once inside the elevator, the two looked to each other and laughed as they headed to the top floor. "Locked," Felix said when they arrived at the door to the roof. Marinette pouted at this, saying, "Now how are we going to see the fireworks?" He smiled and approached her as he took one of her hairpins and began to unlock the door. He then turned back to her and placed the pin back as well as placing a kiss on her forehead.

She blushed at the contact as he took her hand and guided her to the rooftop. He brought her to the spot where they stood before as he lets go of her hand, much to her dismay. Without saying anything, he took out his handkerchief and performed the magic again. He removed the cloth to reveal a rose, this time, a pink rose. He placed it in her hands as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

"I believe that's how it happened," he said as he looked at her blushing face. She smiled at him and nodded and took the ring out of the chain. "What am I going to do with this now?" she asked. He hummed as he took the ring from her and took her hand, casually slipping it in. "Now, I'll be waiting for your answer," he replied with a smile. "And if I say no," she joked. "You need to give it back," he replied bluntly. This made her laugh at his seriousness, as she slowly remembered his serious face back then too.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as she stood on the tips of her toes, despite already wearing heels, she still can't reach him. "It's a good thing that I'm not planning on saying no," she replied as she placed a kiss on his cheek. This time it was his turn to blush at her actions, making her smile at him giddily.

Again, on cue, the fireworks began. This made her turn her attention to the sky to watch the display. Taking this as an opportunity, Felix grinned as he called her attention, "Marinette." This made her turn to him, only to have her lips captured in his. She smiled into it as she wrapped her arms around him. Feeling dating, he lifted her off her feet, overly ecstatic on finding her.

"Happy New year, Marinette," he said as they parted. She giggled as she rested her forehead on his. "Happy New year, Felix," she replied.

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk - one.

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, eventual fluff?

↳ word count: 4.7K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of attempted murder.

one | two

a/n: this was supposed to be a one shot, but i decided to make it a two shot because inspiration struck at the twelfth hour. This is based on stigma tae, and has massive massive references to hyyh tae as well!! I'm warning you all. Written for the @bangtanwritingbingo prompt: chalk drawings. Beta read by @vaekth and @kookiestarlight who are possibly the most supportive and appreciative people I could have asked for, thank you so much!!

You'd thought that being an officer would mean solving cases for people who genuinely needed help. Not hunting around for a missing pumpkin. 

"It's round, large, and I think it was slightly squishy, Y/N," the kid who had run up to you exclaimed again, while making gestures for round, large and squishy. 

If the kid weren't this adorable, you'd squish him for being too loud at 8 in the morning. 

You unlocked the door to your office, taking in the sight of the homey little cubicle that you maintained alone. Being the sole officer in a neighbourhood should be hard work, but in a neighbourhood where practically everybody is asleep? Not as much. 

You sighed as you pulled the kid in - who by now had told you that his name was Sungwoo, and he was eight years old. His mother told him that if he ever lost anything precious he should head to the police, so here he was. 

"Can you find my pumpkin?" He peered up at you as you tried to get the coffee machine started- well, as well as you can with a kid in the way. "It's round, large and squishy." 

"Round, large, squishy. Got it." You smiled wearily at him, seeing how his eyes lit up at the sight of your notebook- the one he obviously thought you wrote your cases in. You took your espresso in a mug, running over to him before he damaged it. He ran over to it, picking it up, dropping it because of its weight and picking it up again. 

"Can you write a message for Peter here?" He asked you, eyes wide and round as he stared at the brown leather bound book. 

"Peter? I thought we were talking about your pumpkin?" 

He nodded vigorously- strong enough to make you worry if his head would fall over. Flopping his hair to the side messily, he scampered to you as you settled in your chair, opening the last page of your book - where you had kept your post-its. "Peter is pumpkin! It's made of something- mom told me-" he put a hand to his head, trying to force his small head to think of big words, "Is it pushy?" 

"Do you mean it is a plushie, Sungwoo?" You said, sighing and writing it down on a post-it note and sticking it on your desk. 

"Yeah!" His eyes sparkled, and he bent his head down to the paper you gave him to scribble a hasty note for Peter. Once satisfied, he raised his head, giving the chit two pats before turning to you. "It's missing, Y/N. Can you find it?"

"Of course I can," you reassured him the best you could while half-asleep. The boy suddenly pulled you into a hug, happy tears spilling out of his eyes as he murmured thank you's over and over. 

You held him for a few more seconds, understanding the worry that the kid would have over his plushie. You didn't understand why he had to bring it to you, though. 

You felt a soft yet insistent buzz in your pant pockets all of a sudden, realizing it was your phone. You pulled yourself away from the crying child, and caressed his head while picking up the call. 

"Good morning, Officer L/N." The coarse voice of your chief barked at you. 

You sighed, not wanting to deal with any of his tantrums right after you dealt with the case of Peter the Pumpkin. "Good morning, Chief." 

"I'm arriving at your office in about ten minutes. We have to discuss something important." 

You sighed again, hand grabbing Sungwoo's as you led him outside the office. Time to clean up. "Of course, Sir."

"Why is this place so messy?" was the first thing you had to hear in the form of a greeting. When your chief said ten minutes, he clearly meant half an hour.

You'd spent some time clearing up cookie crumbs from your table, dusting any evidence of your multiple ramen packets, arranging the tables in proper order, lining the chairs up, and stuffing all the stuff you couldn't clear into a closet. It seemed clean enough to you.

"I shall clean it, Sir." You bowed your head once, carefully maintaining your expression so that the chief doesn't think of you as any more insolent than he already does. 

"It doesn't reflect well upon the force to have a messy office, Y/N. I'm sure you were taught that," he said, pressing his finger to a certain spot on a table, and raising it up to show you. "Dust in our offices speaks of nonchalance. That is the last thing we'd want anyone to think of us is that we're nonchalant."

"I apologise, sir. I shall rectify it." 

"I expect you to. Anyways," he said, dusting his hands and moving to another corner of the office, "that is not what I came here for." He settled into the chair-  your chair, with the note for Peter the Pumpkin intact.

You prayed for him to ignore it. 

"There's been growing signs of vandalism in the neighbourhood you're patrolling, Y/N," The chief said to you in a gruff tone, looking like an angry cat with his whiskers trembling. He wore a scowl to match the whole look. Luckily, his pondering eyes missed out on the missing pumpkin report. "I want you to catch that person. Why isn't it done yet?"

"They were untraceable, Sir. All we could capture was a navy blue hoodie and jeans. Nothing else. There's only graffiti and chalk all over the places he's been at, Sir. I tried looking for clues-" 

"Keep looking, then."

"I'm trying, sir. I have asked the owners of all the shops on the street to hand over any CCTV footage they have of the person so that I can analyze it and try to nab him. It is a futile task till now, though." 

The chief rubbed his hand hard on his thigh, the sound of his palm scratching against the coarse trouser fabric reaching you. "They are being a menace, Y/N. A nuisance to those who want peace in this neighbourhood. You are supposed to bring that peace for them, not complain about not being able to get that person. That is your job." He looked you directly in the eye, anger clearly visible. "Or would you wish to leave?"

You twitched in anger, forcing yourself to remain calm. The chief had a penchant for transferring those who were unsuccessful in their cases to different stations- the more transfers, the more incompetent you seemed. You had already begun at a relatively low level, and you couldn't afford going lower. You nodded stiffly. 

"Any more complaints, and I'd be forced to transfer you somewhere else and hand this case over to someone competent. And you know it wouldn't be safe for your career, Y/N." He rose up from the chair, heading towards the door. "I want it resolved. Soon." 

You bowed your head, in a sense of respect for your senior you'd actually never felt. It was annoying, honestly, and your hatred for this man just grew more and more. You had requested since the day of your graduation from the academy to be put in the forensics department - something that actually was your specialty. But no, here you were, patrolling a neighbourhood where the only problem was a kid scribbling on walls and leaving an alphabet behind. 

V.

Taehyung kicked a pebble aside, letting it roll aimlessly along the half-paved, half-broken road. "I'm out of green paint, again." 

He glanced at the aluminium shutters he had decided to vandalize- no, beautify- today, deciding that the subtle decor of the florist's shop and the grim outside of the tattoo shop - both needed redecorations. He didn't care who was the owner. He didn't care how many reports they filed about the eerie similarities of the vandal to Mrs. Kim's son - they never cared about him before, so they'd never care about him now. That, he was sure of. 

His red paint had been used to make the outer petals of a rose that he had dedicatedly been drawing the previous day, until the owner had yelled from his house above for him to stop. That was early, though. 11 AM was a predictable time for a vandal to walk through the streets, spraying graffiti and dusting chalk over every nook and corner until he was satisfied by the art he had created. 

His wristwatch ticked three as he picked up his blue paint can. Just a few hours later, but effective enough for the owner to have fallen asleep - Taehyung could definitely justify that by the snores that echoed behind the shutters. 

"Reporting. Reporting. Vandal. Street 13. I repeat. Vandal. Street 13." 

The cuckoo clock that your mom had gifted you to decorate the less than neat office struck three just when the report came through. Just when you were about to settle for the night.

You pushed your papers aside, leaving the missing car complaint on your table. Holding your baton, slipping your ID into the pocket of your jeans and dusting crumbs off your chiffon blouse, you picked up the radio. 

"Street 13. Officer Y/N reporting." 

The gruff voice of your chief growled back at you. "The vandal has been found on camera, finally. The florist's CCTV; he sent a complaint. In fact, he's been wandering the streets for half an hour now, Y/N. Where have you been?" 

You were about to form a legible enough response, say that the paperwork he had set for you was what consumed your time, but he beat you to it. Sighing into the phone, he said, "Nevermind that. Get to his location immediately, and capture him." His voice stumbled for a second. "Take the taser, just in case." 

"Yes sir," you responded meekly, and disconnected the radio. 

You looked around for your keys, going past a board full of cases that were never relevant enough to be solved - especially the one of the missing pumpkin. The types of cases you received here made you shudder, this wasn't why you had spent so much time training at the university. You tucked your radio into your jacket as you pushed it on your shoulders, grabbing onto a half-eaten sandwich to satisfy your hunger along the way.

"I have to get that person before he robs me of a chance at the forensics department forever," you thought while speeding towards the location told to you - while maintaining the speed limit, of course. No space for nonchalance. 

You'd wanted to finish all your paperwork today and get back to an analysis you were working on - preferably get a nap too. Capturing a neighbourhood graffiti artist- this isn't what you had wanted to do.

This wasn't what Taehyung had wanted to do. 

The paint dried off slowly on the metal surface, a small drop of ink trickling down where Taehyung had stopped. The design wasn't matching what he had thought at all, he thought as he stared at it. Time to switch it up. 

He picked up the painting from right where he had stopped it - merging blue into the red petals as he was on his way to the centre of the flower. Painstakingly, he traced lines that would capture the delicate curves of the outlines, serving to further merge into the picture. 

His vandalism wasn't ugly drawings, nudity, or someone just spraying 'SUCKAZ!' all over a wall. That is for amateurs. His was nuanced art. Art that he couldn't do in the day. The ones he could never showcase in the galleries. The ones he buried in the deepest recesses of his mind, burning a hole into the boxes he stuffed them into. This was his freedom. 

Taehyung picked up the black can. Fixing the nozzle in the proper direction, he shook the bottle- once, twice. The paint came out in spurts at first, before settling into a steady spray. Black always enhances everything, doesn't it? Enhancement that never seemed beautiful - it was just there to make it stand out. Be noticed. Be shamed. Be suspected. Look deadly, or even look dead. Even the most innocent faces look devious with black. What's to say his flower would still look alive? 

The black slowly spiralled across the expanse of the shutter, coiling over and over in what Taehyung thought could be the leaves. The thorns that held the flower back from reaching the epitome of beauty- at least, outwardly beauty. He detested how overhyped a rose was- just as destructible as all other flowers. Where's the beauty in something temporary? 

The green paint can had been used up last time when he had sprayed ivy all over the fashion boutique's doors- all of which had been washed away. A shame, Taehyung thought, and picked up his airbrush. Filling a little green into the small holder, he tested it a few times on the footpath - he'd scrub chalk all over it later on, he still needed to add more to beautify the shops. He carefully painted leaves all over the black he had sprayed, letting them flatten out against the metal at the back and form a protective layer around the rose. Unnecessary by all means. 

He then switched to a darker green, picking up the airbrush once again to add some subtlety in the leaves. He watched the spray slowly settle right where he wanted it - paint, unlike his life, was something he had full control of. It was liberating. 

Standing back and twirling the can over and over in his hand, Taehyung was somewhat satisfied with what he made. A rose. Simple, overrated. Just like flowers. The leaves stood out more to him, along with the thorns; their prickly points being the focus of the picture. Perfect. 

He picked up his personal favorite - a small can of black paint who's nozzle had been crafted by him. Stooping down to the corner of the shutter, he slowly sprayed across it. Black settling on silver gray, one single alphabet. V. 

That's it. He was done. Just an hour's work. 

He turned to the tattoo artist's shop, the shutter a colourful mess littered with messy black stains and drawings the owner probably thought was hip. Taehyung cringed. How was it possible for an artist to be that bad at decorating their own shop? He walked a few steps back, admiring the size of it and thinking of what he could fill there. Something that would really annoy a tattoo artist- he deserved it after having ruined the shutter like that. Picking up a blade, Taehyung set to scrape away the skulls- which, he found, were stickers. Gross. Peeling them off, he set to chip away at the paint- the soft thunk, thunk of the blade slapping against the metal echoed around him. Hopefully, not too loud. 

The metal loudly protested as Taehyung pressed his blade against what seemed to be an outline of a body, done with black, and some random inscriptions that he could notice were wearing away. This had to be really old. 

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The blade kept pushing at the layers of colour, forcing them off the metal. He could see glints of silver shining underneath it, dim under the streetlight.

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He kept pushing at the paint, tongue poking out as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He had to do it now. There was no other time for him to do this. Now. Now. Now. 

The silver suddenly glinted more brightly- a shade impossible under the dull, flickering yellow of the streetlights. White lights created a halo of sorts around him, and Taehyung knew his time was up. He smiled. At least one place got the beauty they deserved. 

"Hands up!" A voice yelled behind him, and he could hear a click that definitely sounded like a taser gun. 

Looking up, he cursed loudly at everyone and anyone. He could have finished it tonight. His work would have been done, and he would have been on his way. He turned around, annoyance sparking in his eyes with sarcastic acceptance lining his lips in the way they curled. "You found me," he murmured, before letting himself get slammed against the very shutters he was painting.

Fate played wonderful games, and for now, you were its newest loser. 

"Name." You spoke, your voice monotone yet clear. 

"You know me, Y/N. Don't pretend you don't." Taehyung crooned, smirking while he rotated the glass that rested atop the table. 

Your annoyance only grew. When you were told that there was a vandal in the streets, you didn't expect it to be a familiar face. 

Kim Taehyung was known to you. Someone who had lived right next door. Someone who had been known as a lovable, obedient boy by the neighbours- you still remembered how your mother would gush about him. Someone you knew, and once, cared for. 

Someone who was later only known as the kid who flung a bottle on his stepfather's face and was sentenced for five years - which, in fact, was a misjudgement. He was innocent, and the video of him attacking the man was manipulated. Fake. Edited. Whatever you chose wouldn't be enough to change anything in the past. 

Taehyung had come out of jail a changed man, weeping openly in the streets when he heard of his family's fate- what he had heard, though, was something you were unaware of. Two years had since passed, and you no longer heard your mother talking about the Kim's boy. He had simply vanished, for you. No traces anywhere. 

But here he was. Kim Taehyung. Alive, breathing. Smirking. And spinning a glass over and over. 

"Give that to me." You said, snatching the glass away from him and keeping it aside. Settling into your chair, you pulled your laptop closer once again, mustering the most serious look you can. "I'm not playing around, Taehyung. Talk properly. Behave. You're already in a rough spot." 

Taehyung laughed; a mirthless, almost painful laughter. "I can't see how anything can be bad here, officer. With all due respect, of course." He straightened up, still keeping that smirk on his face.

You exhaled your breath slowly, holding back all the words you wanted to hurl at him. "Name?"

"Kim Taehyung."

You typed it in, feeling the way each letter pad was pushed down before you moved over it- momentary, but fulfilling. "Age."

"As of today, 25." 

"Job."

"Nothing. Add the official vandal of Street 13 if you want." 

You raised an eyebrow, fingers abruptly coming to a stop. "Behave." 

"No job, officer." Taehyung said, settling further ahead in his seat and pausing, before speaking again. "Why do you need this though? I already have a criminal record, don't I?" 

You turned your face to him, the sudden change in light exposure hurting your eyes. The hurt they felt couldn't possibly fathom the depths of pain you saw churning in Taehyung's eyes, like pits of fire. They were seemingly blank,  but you had known him. Known him long enough to know that this wasn't who he used to be. This wasn't him. 

"Once you were proven innocent, your record was wiped clean. The manipulators were given the charges that you had." You looked at him while saying this, trying to notice any emotions that would make way to his face. None. No twitching lips, no annoyance in his eyebrows. Just his eyes that seethed anger. "Family?" 

"None." 

You raised an eyebrow. "None?"

Taehyung groaned, getting up from the chair and turning around, hands on his waist. "Don't make me repeat all that shit again. You know it, Y/N." 

"Sit back down, Taehyung." You said, irritated by his tantrums. It was four in the morning, for God's sake. You didn't have the energy to deal with him. "I need details if you want to get out of this without any charges." 

"Dead. Most of them. Those who aren't, disowned me as soon as I got into jail. Something about not wanting to be related to a criminal." He said lowly, a gruff tone to his voice as he spoke the last words. 

You hummed lowly, not knowing what to say. How do you possibly respond to something like this? You weren't trained for interrogation at university. You specialized in forensics. This wasn't supposed to be your job. 

"I'm sorry that happened, Taehyung." You managed after a few moments of silence. 

"Don't be." He shrugged, then looked up. "You don't mean it." 

"I still need a reason as to why you are destroying the places around here with your graffiti and chalk drawings, Taehyung." You ignored him and continued, rising from your chair to let your sore limbs relax. "Unfortunately, I can't let you leave till you give me a reason." 

Taehyung stayed mum, much to your annoyance. 

You slammed your hand on the table, a loud slap that stung your hand, but also Taehyung's ears, it seemed. "Reasons. Now."

"I just wanted to." 

"Wanted to? So you were voluntarily damaging someone else's property?" 

He raised his head to look at you; once, twice. Then with a resigned sigh, he responded. "Yeah. But I was beautifying it." 

"A beautification they never asked for?" You said, as Taehyung groaned behind you. 

"No one gives a damn, Y/N-" 

"The police do." You say, preparing to send a message to your chief over the radio. "Got him." 

"The police didn't care when I was innocent in that case, Y/N. Stop pretending like they'll care for me when I'm actually guilty of something." 

"That case was mishandled."

"Yeah, Y/N. It was mishandled. But only for you." You turned to him, shocked at the venom that suddenly laced his voice. 

In the few seconds that you had turned away from him, his eyes had turned bloodshot. Red rimmed the remaining white of his eyes. "You wouldn't know what it is to be locked up for harming people you loved, Y/N. You wouldn't understand that pain," he murmured, loud enough for you to hear him in the echoes of the office. 

You wanted to scream at him. Tell him how he had hurt you. Remind him of all the things you had forced yourself to forget over seven years. The way your heart still hurt for him. 

"You're right. I won't understand. So sit here, and explain yourself." You pulled your chair back, seating yourself in it and gazing up at him expectantly. 

He was just staring at you- you couldn't say whether his gaze held expectations or disdain. Then, shaking his head, "You're still just as stubborn, aren't you," he said, softly smiling as he slipped into his chair. "Adamant, and so, so confusing."

"You don't know me anymore, Taehyung. Don't pretend. Anyways," you said, turning to your laptop again. "I need-"

"No." He stood up once again- why was he standing? "Answer me, now." 

He rested his arms on the table, chest leaning forward to balance himself- and now, you could see the changes he had brought in himself. In place of lean muscle there were defined biceps you could see being flexed. In place of short hair was curly locks that fell until his crown, now hanging over. In place of a cheeky grin that sent your blood rushing to your cheeks was a pair of lips, set tight in one line that sent chills down your spine. There was warmth to him, yes, but it was different. This wasn't the Taehyung you knew. 

"You knew that I was back." Your eyes moved back to look into his. And you noticed more changes. Instead of a carefree twinkle, there was dark, brooding black filling his pupils. "You knew. I'd seen you that night." 

The night when you had seen him falling to his knees, soaking himself in the rain as he gave his tears as a tribute to the gushing skies. The night he returned. The night you thought he didn't know you. 

"I'd seen you after that as well. That day at the convenience store, I'd seen you buying candies. You still buy the same kind, don't you? Lemon flavoured." 

The night you gave up on your dreams to become an analyst in the forensic lab for the police. The night where you stared up to question everything you did as your feet soaked in the snow. Two years ago. The night he thought he knew you. 

"You're hurting me by not remembering us, Y/N." 

"We were nothing to begin with." You cleared your throat, settling further back into your chair. "You asked me on a date, and stood me up. We're nothing. Absolutely nothing." 

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak again, but leaned back, standing tall, straight. You almost missed his warmth - no. This wasn't the warmth of a person you had cared for. 

"It's so cold outside, Y/N, why haven't you turned on the heater?" Your chief's voice filled the room after a few minutes of absolute silence. Taehyung had taken to leaning on the wall, now, maintaining an anxious distance. "Did you get the man?"

You simply pointed towards Taehyung, watching the chief's face flash with recognition, brows hastily furrowing as a frown formed on his face.

"Kim Taehyung?" Your chief asked, coming up to the two of you. "Is it really you? Are you the vandal?"

Taehyung remained silent, head hung. 

The chief inhaled, then exhaled; loud enough for you to hear him - "It is you, isn't it. What happened after the attempted murder case?" 

"Proven false, Sir." You informed your superior. For some odd reason, you felt like you had to come to Taehyung's defense. 

"I am aware of that, Y/N." The chief said, looking Taehyung up and down. As reported, he was in the navy blue sweatshirt and ripped jeans- and you could see in the clear light of your office that he had ripped the holes into them himself. Something he did before to look fashionable, he used to say. 

"I don't really want to put any charges on you, Taehyung. Why did you do it?"

Taehyung spoke, voice gravelly. "It was liberating, Sir." 

"You broke the law, though." 

"The law broke me, Sir." 

The chief took another deep breath and settled onto the chair where Taehyung was sitting just a few moments ago. His wrinkled skin seemed to age even more. Taehyung was close with the chief as a student, that you knew- you had seen him going multiple times to his office to get clarifications after class. You wondered how the chief felt - did he feel the same sting of recognition you had felt? 

"I don't want you to get any charges, Taehyung," he said, before laughing and adding, "all these years, and I still have my student in my head." 

He stood up and turned to face Taehyung again, worry reflecting in his eyes as he held him by the shoulders. "You're still the Taehyung I know, right?" 

Taehyung looked away, down, his face coming in your line of vision - you could see the small rivulets that flowed from the pool of emotions in his eye, down the lines that worry, anger and disbelief had formed on his face. Sniffing softly, he turned back to the chief. "Yes, Sir." 

The chief visibly relaxed, his arms coming down to his sleeves, gripping Taehyung. "Good. I hope it remains that way." 

He returned to his stern stance, and faced you. "I suggest you keep him here for the night, Y/N." he looked outside, the sky just turning sapphire. "I shall return in the morning to talk. Get some rest while you're at it. And Taehyung? Eat something." 

The chief swiftly departed the office, and Taehyung slumped into the chair. "Seven years, and the old man still remembers me," he laughed mirthlessly, lips twisting in an amused smile. "Always appreciated him." 

"And so did he," you mentioned. Taehyung was always brought up as a comparison for your batch of officers to emulate. Even when he was in jail, he was remembered among you as a diligent student and worker. "'Remember his good', he used to say. He always remembered you."

"And you?" He suddenly looked at you. His eyes were no longer bloodshot - there were small remnants of anger, but all you could see was wistfulness. "Did you remember me, Y/N?" 

a/n: yup, I stopped there. Do leave some feedback if you liked it- in the comments, or as an ask! Also, if you wish to be tagged for the next part, you can ask for that too! Thank you for giving your time to this fic,, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! love, hazel💞

masterlist

[sigmaleph]

@serinemolecule asked me for hot takes on this 2006 article on Argentinian food, which I am now reorganising into a proper post for y'all's consumption. you're welcome.

First of all: the titular thesis that you should eat two steaks a day. I am forced to clarify that as 'should's go you should eat zero steaks a day, but this is ethical rather dietary advice and I don't follow it as well as I should, so, y'know. I would engage with this on the level it was stated, but I actually have no opinion on it. Moving on...

Argentine beef really is extraordinary. Almost all of this has to do with how the cows are raised. There are no factory feedlots in Argentina; the animals still eat pampas grass their whole lives, in open pasture, and not the chicken droppings and feathers mixed with corn that pass for animal feed in the United States.

This is, as it happens, completely false. There absolutely is plenty of feedlot beef being eaten in Argentina, and this was also the case back when this article was written. There's grass-fed beef too, and maybe the writer structured their life around only eating those, but the claim that there are no feedlots is just not true.

if you let them make the call, you get a two-inch thick of meat[...]The Argentine steak stands alone, towering three inches over the plate,[...]This gorgeous specimen is called a lomito; it's a standard lunchtime steak, clearly so thin that the Argentines are embarrassed to send it out into the world without a protective wrapping of ham and cheese

I have no idea what their obsession with steak thickness is; meat exists at various levels of thick and thin to suit various tastes. If you like yours thick that's fine but quit the projecting, y'know.

As you might expect, vegetarians will have a somewhat rough time here. For most people in Argentina, a vegetarian is something you eat. One's diet will accordingly lean heavily on pastas, gnocchi, salads, and (for the less squeamish ) fish. Vegans will not survive in Argentina.

This is, unfortunately, true (well, hyperbole, but). Rinna had a rather bad time trying to find vegan food when fae came over for visits. The situation is improving slowly, at least.

The homemade cookies bought in the minimarket downstairs taste of steak. [picture of alfajores de maicena[

Jesus. Find somewhere better to buy your snacks.

It should be no surprise that the land of beef also has excellent milk and butter. The milk comes in plastic bags that would give any American marketing department a heart attack. They proudly advertise "GUARANTEED 100% BRUCELLOSIS AND HOOF-AND-MOUTH FREE". One brand even brags that its bacteria count never exceeds 100,000 per mL, and prints daily statistics to prove it (only 82,000 bacteria/mL on Monday! mmm!).

Are you under the impression American milk doesn't contain bacteria and that when it spoils it's because of the molecules' sheer willpower? Or do you just object to the reminder that they exist?

This menu is delicious, but with rare exceptions it is all you are going to get. People coming for more than a few weeks are advised to bring a discreet bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Eat at better restaurants.

With any order from the master menu comes the Bread Basket, which should be treated as you would treat a basket of wax fruit, that is, as a purely decorative ornament. It is considered bad form to actually eat anything from Bread Basket

What are you talking about. Do all your dining companions just suck, eat some bread.

Dulce de leche is a culinary cry for help. It says "save us, we are baffled and alone in the kitchen, we don't know what to do for dessert and we're going to boil condensed milk and sugar together until help arrives". This cloying dessert tar is so impossibly sweet that you wish you were ten years old again, just so you could actually enjoy it. It is everywhere. There is a special dulce de leche shelf in the supermarket dairy case, and the containers go up to a liter in size. Even the churros are stuffed with it - the churros, Montresor!

It is rare that I feel insulted for the sake of my country, but this? How dare you.

Yes, of course we fill churros with dulce de leche; the real question is why anyone doesn't, short of dietary restrictions. Finding out that people do otherwise was like learning that in other countries, "sandwich" just means two slices of bread. Live a little. Eat a real godsdamned churro.

I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how meals work in Argentina, and they remain a mystery to me. Dinner is clear enough: people tend to go to restaurants beginning at ten o'clock (for those with small children), with the main rush around eleven, and dinner is pretty much over at one or so in the morning. And breakfast - or rather, its absence - follows as a logical consequence of eating a steak the size of a beagle at midnight. But I have yet to figure out whether people eat some kind of meal in the afternoon, and if so, when.

At... noon? Like. We eat lunch. Usually somewhere around 12:00. I am eating lunch right now, and I have done so essentially every day of my life. This is just baffling.

I've come to think the culprit in the missing Argentine lunch scene is yerba mate.

how.

Where the ignorant foreigner may see just another kind of herbal tea (yerba mate is a very unassuming shrub that grows in the northern parts of the country) the Argentine sees a taste treat of unimaginable subtlety, and a tonic for all his problems. The Wikipedia article on proper mate preparation should give you a warning of the level of obsessiveness attainable here (the Urugayans are even worse). To the virgin palate, mate tastes like green tea mixed with grass clippings. The beverage is traditionally drunk out of a little gourd, through a metal straw called a bombilla, with hot (but not boiling!!) water poured into it (without wetting the surface!! clockwise!!) from a thermos.

Yeah, this is accurate. Well, not the clockwise part, never heard anyone complain about that and I can't imagine it mattering.

What distinguishes mate from coffee and tea is the social context - two or more people share a gourd, with a designated pourer in charge of refilling it with hot water after each turn. The ritual is low-fuss but indispensible. You can buy mate gourds and thermoses in any grocery store, and get your thermos filled with hot water at any convenience store or gas station, but you will never see mate served in restaurants or sold in little disposable paper gourds, to go. it's not that people refuse to drink mate alone - anyone working a solitary shift will have a gourd in hand - but that the concept of being served mate by someone who does not share it with you seems impossible.

This is also true. Attempts have been made to sell to-go mate but it's never very popular, the social ritual is important. Also unfortunately a disease vector, I haven't had any mate in a year and a half.

Mate aficionados will tell you that mate contains a special compound, mateine, that serves as a tonic and mild stimulant, promoting alertness without making it hard to sleep, reducing fatigue and appetite, helping the digestion and serving as a mild diuretic. Scientists will tell you that mateine bears a suspicious resemblance to a chemical called caffeine. Mate aficionados will then grow indignant, explaining that mateine is really a stereoisomer (mirror image) of caffeine, with different effects, which will in turn irritate the scientists, who will snap that caffeine doesn't have a chiral center, so it can't have a distinguishable mirror image, and why don't the mate aficionados just put a sock in it.

The first part of this is true; some people definitely think "mateine" is different from caffeine and it absolutely isn't. Never heard the stereoisomer claim before but googling it does confirm some people say so.

still have no idea what any of this has to do with lunch, though. I promise you nobody skips lunch because mate is just too filling.

The wine here is very good (something has to stand up to that steak), but Argentina has no liquor to call its own, relying on whiskies like Old Smuggler and the low-maintenance Don Juan cognac to carry the flag.

There's a fundamental omission from this list and it's called fernet.

Beer is ubiquitous and comes in a bewildering variety of sizes, although there is a skittishness about the full-on liter. Things level off at 970 mL. In my case, it means I end up drinking 1940 mL of beer as a kind of personal protest, and all is well with the world. To make up for the abundance of sizes, beer comes in only one variety, Quilmes, which inevitably comes served with a tripartite platter of snacks - nuts, salty cylinders, and aged potato chips.

I never had trouble buying beer by the litre, but I confess I never tried to do so in 2006 on account of being under 18 at the time.

Anyway, beer comes in a lot more varieties today, thankfully, because Quilmes sucks. I'll never be a beer person, but at least these days there's options I tolerate.

[original post]

[morganaspendragonss]

turn to dust all that i adore

whoops it’s a 2b spec fic based on two seconds in a promo love that

title from things we lost in the fire by bastille

ao3 | 2.3k | 2b spoilers

The fire continues raging whenever TK closes his eyes, and he doesn’t know if it’s better or worse than the sight that greets him when his eyes are open. He wishes he could wipe that awful night from his memory completely and go back to where they were just a few days ago, happy and safe and in their home. They don’t even have that anymore, the house little more than ash, and TK would be okay with that - they could rebuild from that - if Carlos weren’t so silent and still in front of him. 

The fire was three days ago; TK hasn’t seen Carlos awake in four. He’d been in the middle of a 24-hour shift when the call came through, bickering with Nancy about the merits of various sitcoms, Captain Vega probably rolling her eyes in the back as they returned to the station. 

Nancy had quietly offered to drive when they found out the address, but TK had shaken his head. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, and he’d pressed down a little harder than necessary on the accelerator, praying he’d be able to get there fast enough. The house was a lost cause, if what dispatch said was true, but if he could save Carlos, then that would be enough.

He’d failed - of course he had. An explosion had ripped through the building just as they’d pulled up, the glass shattering as flames leapt from their bedroom window. TK had felt a cold dread settle inside him, and his worst fears had been confirmed when the team emerged with Carlos limp in their arms.

He’s alive, but the damage had been done. Too much smoke inhalation and multiple horrific burns left him hanging by a thread; it’s a miracle, really, that the heart monitor is still beeping out a steady rhythm. TK can’t be thankful, though, not when he knows everything could turn on its head in an instant. Not when they’ve already lost so much.

A soft knock on the door grabs TK’s attention. He looks up to see his dad standing there, a sad smile on his face and a plastic-wrapped sandwich in hand. TK twists his face into a grimace and returns to watching the bed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Son -”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’ve been saying that for days,” his dad points out, walking over and pointedly laying the sandwich in TK’s lap. “Starving yourself isn’t going to make him wake up any faster.”

TK barely spares the sandwich a cursory glance. “Nor is forcing myself to eat.”

His dad sighs, crossing the room and grabbing the extra chair. He sets it down next to TK’s and, though he doesn’t look, TK knows he’s being subjected to one of his ‘dad looks’.

“TK, you’ve barely left the hospital since it happened,” he says. “I know it’s hard right now, but you can always come back and stay with me. You still have a home.”

“Not without him, I don’t.”

He hears his dad’s sharp intake of breath, feels his hand running through his hair, but TK’s detached from it all. He studies Carlos’s face, every part familiar to him, but so strange and foreign now. Carlos has never been a restless sleeper - that’s all TK - but there’s usually some movement. A crease appearing between his brows as his face scrunches up, his muscles shifting as he pulls TK closer, his nose gently nuzzling the back of TK’s neck. This still version of him isn’t Carlos. This isn’t the man TK loves.

But it’s close as he’s going to get until Carlos comes back to him, and TK can’t stand the thought of leaving him. In all the months they’ve been dating, they’ve rarely spent a night apart, and most of those were either on shift or still in their bed, with a pillow that smelt like the other and the promise of seeing each other again soon. Going back to his dad’s house would only be bearable if Carlos were with him, but that’s not possible, so neither is leaving.

“TK, I -”

“If you’re just here to give me this,” he interrupts, waving the sandwich in his dad’s direction, “then, thanks, but you should probably go now. His parents are coming in a bit and the hospital barely lets three of us be in here as it is.”

His dad recoils, wounded, but doesn’t budge, much to TK’s irritation. He’s really not in the mood for any more meaningless talk or thinly veiled attempts to get him to eat or sleep.

“Dad, please.”

“I was contacted by the PD this morning,” his dad says instead. TK’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “They found out what caused the fire.”

TK waits, but his dad suddenly becomes very reticent, his eyes flicking between TK and the bed. Clearly, this wasn’t something as simple as the electrics blowing or the washing machine malfunctioning; it’s worse, and TK’s breath seems to stick in his lungs.

“Dad?” he croaks.

Their eyes finally meet, his dad’s face arranged into a sympathetic grimace. “It was arson.”

Time stops.

“What?” TK breathes, shaking his head. Arson. Someone burned their home down and almost killed Carlos, on purpose. And for what? To kill them? The only reason TK wasn’t caught up in it too, after all, is because he was fortunate enough to be on shift that night. “Do they know who?”

“I’m sorry,” his dad says, voice full of regret. “It’s been happening all over the city, no leads so far.”

TK sits back in his chair, a white-hot spark of anger flashing through him as he once more takes in the many bandages on Carlos’s body. He wonders if this was how Judd felt those weeks ago when he found out the guy who’d run them off the bridge was also in the hospital, because TK would very much like to go out and find the people who did this. He wants them to pay for what they’ve done to the love of his life.

As is sensing where his mind has gone, his dad starts rubbing gentle circles on his back, though it doesn’t calm TK like it usually does.

“I think I’ll stay here until his parents show up,” he says. “If that’s alright?”

It’s a non-question; his tone makes it clear that he’s not going anywhere no matter what, but TK doesn’t have it in him to put up even a token argument. He simply nods wearily, and settles in for another day of waiting - another day without his boyfriend’s comforting presence at his side.

*

A week after the fire, he’s told he can go back to the house, if he wants. He doesn’t, really, but he goes anyway, knowing that Carlos will have questions when he wakes up, and maybe he’ll be able to salvage something.

Probably not, but it’s never been the stuff that’s mattered to him. It’s been what the loss of it all represents, the memories that now exist only in his head and in the ashes.

TK stares up at the blackened husk of their home, something keeping him rooted in the middle of the street. Police tape is still up and there’s an officer waiting to escort him in when he’s ready, but TK just… He doesn’t know if he can do this.

“TK?”

He jumps at the unexpected voice, turning to see Carlos’s neighbour from two doors down, Molly, her daughter trailing behind her. TK doesn’t know many of the people around here, but Molly and her husband are often to be found playing with Lilia on the porch, and they always make a point of greeting them. Carlos has even babysat for them a few times, though TK’s rarely there for that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, smiling apologetically. “How are you doing?”

He shrugs. “I’m okay,” he replies, and Molly seems to understand what that really means. “Carlos is still in hospital, but we’re, um. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon.”

She nods, glancing at the house. “It’s terrible, what happened. You’ve got somewhere to stay, right?”

“I’ve only just moved out of my dad’s place, so I’ll just go back there while we figure something out. Guess he’ll be glad we don’t have to transport all my stuff this time.”

The joke is hollow, and Molly’s face twists in sympathy. “Well, if you need anything, we’re happy to help out however we can. Carlos has always been good to us - to everyone here - and we hate that you’re going through this now. Send him our love, okay?”

TK gives her a small smile, nodding. He’s about to excuse himself to finally go inside, when Lilia tugs at her mother’s hand, whispering something in her ear when Molly leans down. 

“We were baking when we saw you pull up,” Molly explains, straightening. “Lilia insisted on bringing these out to you, didn’t you, Lils?”

Lilia beams up at him when TK looks over to her, thrusting a small tupperware in his general direction. “Cookies!” she exclaims, by way of explanation.

TK chuckles and squats so he’s at her height, taking the box from her. She’s watching him expectantly, so he takes a cookie - clumsily decorated with mountains of sprinkles - and pops it in his mouth, making a show of enjoying it.

“My compliments to the chef,” he says, licking his lips playfully. Lilia giggles, then, without warning, throws her arms around him, the force of it almost sending him on his ass. Molly gasps and reaches to pull her daughter away, but TK shakes his head at her, mouthing an, It’s okay.

Steadying himself, he gently wraps his arms around Lilia’s back, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of his neck as she attempts to squeeze him within an inch of his life. It’s enough to pull a real smile out of him, though tears also spring to his eyes, a sudden emotion overwhelming him. He brushes them away hastily when Lilia unwraps herself from him, but it’s clear that Molly noticed, judging by the sad smile on her face.

“I hope Mr Carlos gets better soon,” Lilia says, her voice earnest in a way only a five-year old’s can be. 

TK nods. “Me too.”

“He gave me sweets.”

A laugh bursts out of him at the sudden comment. TK leans close to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Shall I tell you a secret? He gave me sweets as well.”

Lilia gasps as though she’s heard something incredibly scandalous. TK laughs again, before standing back up and turning to Molly, who’s been watching the two of them with clear amusement.

“Thank you,” he tells her. “For coming out and talking, and for the cookies.”

“It’s the least we could do,” she says, waving him off. “Like I said, let us know if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk. We’ll be there.”

TK thanks her again, waving at them both as they head back inside. He turns to his and Carlos’s place, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

He can do this.

*

Inside is much as he expects. The worst of the rubble has been cleared, but there’s still some detritus lying around, including a few of their things. TK stoops and carefully retrieves a framed photo from the floor, wiping the dust off the cracked glass. The picture inside is barely recognisable, the colours warped, but he knows the image like the back of his hand - a candid of him and Carlos taken by Marjan during one of their hangs. She’d caught Carlos mid-laugh, a grin plastered on TK’s own face as they’d stared into each others’ eyes.

Marjan had grumbled about how frustratingly lovesick they both were, but the photo quickly became one of TK’s favourites, and it had made its way into a frame less than a week later. TK’s heart aches at the sight of it ruined; he can always print another as it’s still saved on his phone, but it still hurts. Everything does, right now.

As he gazes around the space, eyes catching on mementos and remembering how it all used to look, TK is struck by how much this place had felt like home. He’s only been officially living here for a month, but it’s been theirs for far longer than that, TK’s stuff worming its way in among Carlos’s until it became natural to see two pairs of shoes by the door, two sets of keys in the bowl. 

This was theirs, and now it’s nothing.

He drops the photo frame on his way out the door, not sparing a look back as he walks away.

*

He gets the call halfway back to the hospital and TK forgets all about speed limits as he races the rest of the way. He sprints through the corridors, the path to Carlos’s room learned by heart, and skids to a stop in the doorway, his eyes filling with tears at the sight before him.

Carlos, awake and smiling and alive.

TK lets out a sob, his hand flying to his mouth. Carlos turns, his smile widening when he catches sight of him, and he wordlessly lifts his palm up in invitation.

And who is TK to refuse it?

“Hi, baby,” he gasps, before kissing his boyfriend, palms framing Carlos’s face. Carlos’s hands come up to clutch at his wrists, and TK presses their foreheads together, silently revelling in this moment.

There’s a long road still ahead of them - Carlos needs to heal, and they’ll have to do so much to get back on their feet - but he can’t care about that right now. Being here, right now, with Carlos’s warm touch stroking over his skin, is all TK needs.

Carlos came back to him, and that’s the only thing that matters.

[berrynarrybanana]

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you! 

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here! 

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas. 

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty. 

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door. 

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten. 

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin. 

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground. 

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl. 

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.” 

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.” 

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry. 

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella. 

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again. 

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head. 

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted. 

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies. 

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it. 

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.” 

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug. 

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough. 

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug. 

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here. 

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say. 

**

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard. 

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep. 

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched. 

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame. 

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes. 

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue. 

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips. 

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears. 

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut. 

He was totally fucked for this girl. 

**

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs. 

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand. 

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew. 

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?” 

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.” 

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked. 

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.” 

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?” 

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-” 

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen. 

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was. 

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings. 

He had a crush on Stella. 

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her. 

**

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them. 

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them. 

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing. 

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said. 

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked. 

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.” 

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly. 

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.” 

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips. 

“Why is that?” He asked. 

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella. 

Stay here with me forever. 

Love me. 

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind. 

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

**

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well. 

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit. 

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” 

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!” 

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?” 

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back. 

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time. 

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.” 

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide. 

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.” 

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.” 

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching. 

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter. 

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s. 

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!” 

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest. 

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.” 

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

**

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.” 

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted. 

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s. 

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.” 

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks. 

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago. 

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off. 

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door. 

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile. 

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest. 

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands. 

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode. 

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo. 

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.” 

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?” 

“Gemma-” 

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering. 

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry. 

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.” 

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

[newtonsheffield]

Hello, I'm new around here and I've been reading almost everything you post, I love your AU but my favorite parts are always Benedict and Sophie, they are very cute to me, If it is not too much trouble do you have something on Sophie baking for Benedict?

Ahhhh Welcome, Welcome, Welcome.

Honestly every time this blog gets another follower I wonder what you saw that made you want more. Like 650 of you have seen a post about Michael getting Francesca a dog with a beard because he can't grown one and gone "Yes, this is the content for me." Power to you tbh. Very glad to have you all of course.

I'm actually a little surprised that no one has ever asked for this before!

So here we go, Sophie Beckett + baking for her Boyf

The first time Sophie had done it, she hadn't really thought much of it. She'd been on the dessert station at work, and the head chef had been taking the time to show her a new technique for meringue, when they'd finished the little tutorial Sophie had hesitated, with her little lemon meringue tarts hovering over the bin before the chef had tutted, rolling her eyes and said Take them home to the cute little boy who follows you around everywhere. And Sophie had flushed scarlet, but tucked them away anyway. Ben had picked her up from work later that night, his smile bright when he opened her car door for her, his lips warm as they brushed hers and she'd smiled as she settled against the seat of his car holding out the tart for him, proudly I made you something today. And Ben had stilled, her eyes shining oddly at her for a second before he choked out I love it. Thank you Soph. And something about the look of complete awe on his face had made her want to cook for him all the time.

Sophie loved learning little facts about Benedict. His wants and needs, his likes and dislikes. He liked apple cider and hated pear, he liked walnuts in muffins and banana bread but not by themselves, and he firmly believed that sultanas should never ever be used in baking. She filed all these little facts about him away, desperately holding on to each piece of information, waiting for the opportunity to use it. Surprising him with something each time a new preference was revealed to her. Banana and walnut loaf, cherry pie, raspberry soufflé, littering the counter tops in his kitchen and every time she did it Ben would say You don't have to feed me Sophie. But his eyes would shine and she desperately loved, not only cooking but cooking for him. A tiny little sign of her love left on the counter before she left for the day. I'm putting on so much weight Sophie Ben whined one day when he eyed a peanut butter cookie with such longing that Sophie couldn't help but chuckle. Like I care.

Sophie loved baking for Benedict, any time, any place. But her favourite thing to cook for him, was a birthday cake. She'd never celebrated her birthday until she'd been with Ben, and so maybe it was stupid or childish but she loved them. They were special in her eyes, a day filled with happiness and love and admiration. And so the first year they were together, she spent weeks planning his cake. A seven tier chocolate ganache cake decorated with the characters from his favourite book Little Women as tiny little statues. When she'd finally revealed it at the small gathering they had for his family at his house the room had gone silent. Stunned. And Sophie had panicked, Had she gotten something wrong? Was someone allergic to something? Jesus had his mother bought a cake- Her wild train of thought was cut off by Violet Bridgerton leading a round of applause, when Sophie dared look at him Ben had a tear in his eye, his arms wrapping tightly around her the next minute his voice urgent in his ear. I love you so much, Soph. It's beautiful and Sophie had had to swallow several times to dislodge the lump in her throat as she cut the cake. Oh my God, Sophie Beckett, I'm in love with you. Marry me. Colin Bridgerton said dramatically, his mouth full of cake. Sophie rolled her eyes And what do you think Penelope will have to say about our elopement? She said dryly, Penelope's voice ringing out clearly from across the room seconds later Honestly, Sophie after trying this cake, I don't even mind. And even through the laughter Sophie couldn't help but feel pride burn in her chest when Ben nudged his brother lightly and said Sorry Col, she's taken.